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GRIP HORNER. 

“With a long calico apron tied around his neck, washing dishes for 

his mother.” 


{See Page 21 ) 


Bilberry Boys and Girls 


THEIR AD VENTURES A HD MISADVENTURES, 
THEIR TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS 


BY 


SOPHIE SWETT 

*» 


AUTHOR OF “tom PICKERING OF ’SCUTNEY,” “ FLYING HILL FARM,” 
“captain POLLY,” “ THE PONKATY BRANCH ROAD,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY ETHELDRED B. BARRY 


3>%tt'CE0F 

MAP 1 8 789 fi 




of Copf '^ 




BOSTON 


LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPAgj^jf COpV 

OtffJ. 1898 , ' 

L. TWO COPiEo RECEIVED. 


Is 



4415 


Copyright, 1898, 

BY 

Lothrop Publishing Company. 


A// rights reserved. 

12 - 


TYPOGRAPHY BY C. J. PETERS A SON, BOSTON. 


PKBSSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER ^AGE 

I. The School Exhibition 9 

II. The Day of Small Things 21 

III. Ludy Jane’s Idea 32 

IV. A Low Tide: The Story of a Bilberry Boy and 

His Fiddle 50 

V. An Own Relation; New-comers to Pippin Hill, 

AND WHAT BEFELL THEM THERE 6l 

VI. The Christmas Toll 76 

VII. The White Turkey’s Wing: A Pippin-Hill 

Story 94 

VIII. The Prize Pumpkin: Pippin Hill and Phineas 

AND Lizy Ann again 113 

IX. The Bilberry Boy who lost the Fourth of 

July 128 

X. The Girl from Bilberry Corner 150 

XI. A New York Boy at School with some of the 

Bilberries 172 

XII. How Santa Claus found the Bilberry Poor- 

House 190 


5 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 


The Boy from North Bilberry 

A Daghestan Pattern: How a Bilberry Girl 
WAS A Rug-maker and a Peace-maker . . 

The High-Top Sweeting Tree. A Story from 
THE Tip-Top of Pippin Hill 

All the Plums: The Story of a Thanksgiv- 
ing Visitor to Bilberry 

The Story of an Easter Hat: A Bilberry 
Port Happening 

Marmy: a Bilberry Corner “ House-Mother,” 
AND A School-teacher who is an Old 
Friend 

“Betsey:” A Bilberry Boy who made an 
April Fool of Himself 

How Christmas came to Tukey’s Cove: The 
Story of a Poor Little Place on the Out- 
skirts OF Bilberry, and of One Good Time 
THAT came there 


PAGE 

208 

224 

235 

247 

268 

282 

298 

310 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


a/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 


Grip Horner 

Pitt and His Fiddle .... 
Sar’ Abby’s Christmas Load . 
The Minister’s Daughter’s Hat 
Phineas and the Pumpkin . . 

Nick at Tantrybogus . . . 

Taffy at Cricket 

Gobaly and ’Thusely . . . 

In Mrs. Prouty’s Attic . . . 

Solomon and Mabel Hortense 
“ Marmy ” 


. Frontispiece 
to face page 54 
“ “ 88 

“ “ 104 

“ “ 116 

“ “ 140 

“ “ 178 

“ “ 198 

“ “ 228 

“ “ 260 

“ “ 288 


7 




BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. 

G R ANOTHER Petherick at the poor-farm says, 
go where you will, you’ll find that the world 
is “chock full of human nater.” And that’s the 
way it is in Bilberry. The boys and girls are just 
like other boys and girls. I don’t for a moment 
assume that they are any better or brighter. In 
fact, they are, in both those respects, as one of 
them candidly admitted to me, “kind o’ mixed.” 

Some people might think that because Bilberry 
is far from the great world there isn’t much going 
on there, but they would be mistaken, as you will 
see when you read this book. They hear what 
is going on in the great world, too, or at least a 
part of it, and some of them mean to have a share 
in it one of these days. 

Meanwhile, there are plenty of good times in 
Bilberry, although some of them are, like the 
goodness and the brightness of the girls and boys, 
“kind o’ mixed.” 


9 


lO 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


To more than one person the school exhibition 
was one of those mixed good times, though to 
Viola Treddick — but I musn’t make this story 
like the Irishman’s elephant — “ wid the tail in 
him at the for’ard ind ! ” To begin at the begin- 
ning, Simpsy Judkins was to “speak a piece,” and 
Viola Treddick to read an original composition ; 
there was to be a glee sung by picked voices from 
the first class — it was all about the deep blue sky, 
and “the sky, the sky, the sky,” was repeated in 
a very thrilling and effective manner ; and Tom 
Burtis was to display his powers as a lightning 
calculator. The exhibition was to be given in the 
new town hall, and not only would all Bilberry be 
there, but a crowd of people from the adjacent 
towns as well, to say nothing of teachers and 
pupils from the Normal School at Cocheco ; for 
the Bilberry Hill School exhibition has acquired 
a reputation. 

In the Treddick family the girls have been 
obliged to take the family burden upon their 
shoulders. When Father Treddick died, some- 
what less than a month after Mother Treddick, 
turning his face to the wall and saying that she 
had been his backbone and his underpinnin’, and 
he couldn’t live without her (it sometimes happens 
that way in spite of Mother Nature), the rocks still 
had the upper hand on the little farm, and Amasa, 
the only boy, was eleven. Lizette, who was fifteen. 


THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. II 

went to work in the stocking factory. Every one 
thought it was a pity, because Lizette was fond of 
books, and had meant to be a teacher ; she was 
slight and delicate, too, and work in the stocking 
factory was hard. But Lizette believed in doing 
“ not what ye would, but what ye may,” with just 
as good a will as if it were the former. Some 
people said she had taken warning by her father’s 
example ; he had always been trying to invent 
something, in his queer little workshop that was 
the wood-shed chamber ; that was why the rocks 
had not been gotten out of the farm. 

It was Viola who was now spoken of as a re- 
markably fine scholar, just as Lizette had been 
before she went into the factory ; she was not yet 
sixteen, but she hoped to get the Doughnut Ridge 
School to teach in September. There were sev- 
eral other candidates, all older than she, but Viola 
was at the head of her class, and that original 
composition which she was to read at the exhibi- 
tion was expected to make an impression upon the 
committee-men. The teacher had said to several 
people that it was really a remarkable production 
for a girl of Viola’s age. And they thought a 
great deal of literary gifts in Bilberry. 

Lizette was very proud of Viola, and so, indeed, 
was Amasa, who was fourteen now, but whose 
name was not on the programme at all. To tell 
the painful truth at once, although Amasa keenly 


12 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


felt the especial need there was that he should 
be smart,” although he tried his best to be the 
man of the family in a satisfactory sense, yet he 
was at the very foot of his class ; fractions floored 
him, and he had a hazy idea that Timbuctoo was 
out West, and that Captain John Smith discovered 
America. When it came to chopping wood, Amasa 
was pretty sure to cut his toe ; and if he went fish- 
ing, he tumbled into the pond. And he couldn’t 
get *‘jobs,” like Cosy Pringle, the boy in the next 
house, who had money in the bank. 

Cosy Pringle boasted that he always came out 
top of the heap ; ” but some people thought he was 
too smart.” 

When the exhibition day came, although Simpsy 
Judkins had been announced to “speak a piece,” 
it was Cosy Pringle who spoke it ; there was a re- 
port that he had hired Simpsy to have a sore throat. 
Simpsy had oratorical gifts, but he did not feel the 
advantages of appearing in public and having his 
name in the paper, as Cosy did. Cosy held the sec- 
ond rank in declamation, so Simpsy’s sore throat 
gave him an opportunity to be heard. He wasn’t 
second in his class ; he came sympathizingly near 
to Amasa there ; but he had carefully-weighed opin- 
ions — which he sometimes confided to Amasa — 
concerning the amount of study that “ paid.” 

Mother Nature provided one of her loveliest 
days, as she is apt to do for school exhibitions in 


THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. 


13 


June. The girls, in fleecy muslin gowns, were so 
much in evidence that the boys, in the background, 
were only a little hampered by the embarrassment 
of full dress. Cosy Pringle wasn’t hampered at all ; 
he wore his grandfather’s large gold chain and his 
sister Amanda’s moonstone ring, and felt that he 
ought to attract as much attention as the girls. 

Cosy’s voice was a little thin and sharp, but he 
recited one of Macaulay’s lays with a great deal of 
“r-r-rolling drum” very well indeed, having been 
thoroughly coached by his sister Amanda and the 
young minister to whom Amanda was going to be 
married. 

But beyond a little mild clapping, the recitation 
received no attention whatever; while Viola Tred- 
dick’s composition was, as the Bilberry Beacon re- 
ported, received with the greatest enthusiasm. It 
was on “ Schoolgirl Friendships,” and there was 
some real fun in it ; and once in a while it was 
pathetic, or at all events, the audience laughed 
and cried, and they couldn’t really do that, as Cosy 
averred they did, because they liked Viola. It 
closed with a verse of original poetry, and Bilberry 
began to feel sure that a great poet was to arise 
in its midst. 

Lizette stopped, and hugged Amasa behind a 
juniper-tree on the way home from the exhibition. 
Viola had staid to a spread that was given to the 
pupils and their friends ; Lizette had to hurry back 


14 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

to her work in the factory, and Amasa had felt that 
he did not shine in society. Amasa could not re- 
member ever to have seen Lizette cry for joy be- 
fore ; she was not one of the crying kind, anyway. 

“ She’ll have a chance ! Viola will have a chance ! 
She’ll get the Doughnut Ridge School,” she said 
rapturously. “I’ve been so afraid she would have 
to go into the factory.” 

Amasa realized suddenly how hard life was for 
Lizette. Her delicate hands were calloused and 
knobby, and her shoulders bent ; she looked wist- 
fully at the library books, and never had time to 
read ; she knew that she wasn’t strong, and she 
was anxious about their future — Viola’s and his. 

It was the very next night, as Amasa was going 
to bed, that Cosy Pringle came under his window 
and called to him. Amasa went down and unfas- 
tened the door, and Cosy followed him up-stairs. 

He seemed excited and nervous, and kept saying 
“ ’Sh ! ” though there was no one stirring in the 
house. But it was like Cosy to have some myste- 
rious scheme on foot. Amasa thought that he had 
at last discovered how Pember Tibbetts made his 
muskrat traps, or guessed the conundrum in the 
County Clarion^ for which intellectual feat a prize 
of five dollars was offered. Or perhaps he had se- 
cured the job of weeding Mr. Luke Mellon’s onion- 
bed and hoeing his string-beans ; last year he was 
paid three dollars for the job, and hired Amasa to 


THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. 


5 


do the work for seventy-five cents. Amasa stoutly 
resolved not to be the victim of Cosy’s sharp busi- 
ness methods this year. 

But Cosy’s shrewd gray eyes had a twinkle that 
meant more than onion-weeding or any *‘jobs.” 

‘‘ That was an awful nice composition that your 
sister wrote,” he said, in an easy, complimentary 
manner. 

Amasa nodded, brightening ; it was more like 
Cosy to make a fellow feel small about his sisters 
and all his possessions. 

“Folks are saying that she’ll get the Doughnut 
Ridge School, if Elkanah Rice, that’s school com- 
mittee, does want it for his niece. A good thing, 
too, for Lizette is pretty well worn out taking care 
of you all.” Cosy wagged his head with great 
solemnity. “ Aunt Lucretia said she shouldn’t be 
surprised if she got consumptive, like her mother, 
if she worked too hard.” 

Amasa’s heart seemed to stop beating, and a 
choking lump came into his throat. 

“ But Viola’ll get the school fast enough,” con- 
tinued Cosy, “ if — if folks don’t find out that she 
copied the composition.” 

“ Copied the composition ! ” Amasa’s brows 
came together in a fierce scowl, and he arose from 
the side of the bed where he was sitting, and ad- 
vanced upon Cosy with a threatening gesture. 

“Now just look here before you go to making 


1 6 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

a turkey-cock of yourself,” said Cosy, drawing 
a newspaper from his pocket. “ I happened to go 
down to Gilead this afternoon to swap roosters 
with Uncle Hiram — made him throw in a pullet 
and a watering-pot because my rooster had a big- 
ger topknot than his. There was a pile of newsr- 
papers in the woodshed, and I went to get one to 
wrap up some things that Aunt M’lissy was sendin’ 
to mother, and I came across this. ‘ Schoolgirl 
Friendships ’ caught my eye. See ! it’s signed 
‘ Lilia Carryl.’ Aunt M’lissy said she believed 
'twas a girl over to Gilead Ridge. That paper is 
two years old now, and Gilead being ten miles 
away, I suppose Viola thought nobody would ever 
find her out.” 

She never did such a thing ! Don’t you dare 
say she did ! ” cried Amasa hoarsely. 

But there it was in black and white ; there it 
was word for word. Amasa knew every word of 
Viola’s composition, he had been so proud of it. 
Cosy whistled softly, with his hands in his pockets 
as Amasa ran his eye over “Schoolgirl Friend- 
ships.” 

“ There’s some mistake,” faltered Amasa. “ Vi- 
ola is the honestest girl ! ” 

Cosy’s whistling ended in a sharp, expressive 
little crescendo squeak. “There’s no telling what 
girls will do,” he said sagely. “ When folks know 
it, why Elkanah Rice’s niece will be pretty apt to 


THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. 


7 


get the Doughnut Ridge School, and I’m kind of 
’fraid Viola’ll have to take a back seat altogether. 
It’ll come hard on Lizette.” 

Cosy folded the Gilead Gleaner^ and thrust it 
firmly and impressively into his pocket. Amasa 
had been acquainted with Cosy Pringle since they 
were both in long clothes, and he understood that 
that paper had its price. If he could pay the price, 
why, even Lizette need never know ! 

“ I suppose it’s my duty to show this paper,” 
said Cosy, with an air of unflinching virtue ; “ but 
still, amongst old friends, and if you’ll do a little 
good turn for me that you can do as well as not, 
why. I’ll just chuck the paper into the fire, and 
agree not to tell anybody, and we’ll call it square. 
1 ain’t a mean feller.” 

Amasa’s heart thrilled with hope. What was the 
good turn that he would not do for Cosy on those 
terms ? He thought of his fan-tailed pigeons, and 
of his dog Trip, on whom Cosy had always had his 
eye because he could do so many tricks ; it would 
be an awful wrench to part with Trip, but to save 
Viola from disgrace he would not hesitate. 

“ I only want to go into your woodshed cham- 
ber for a few minutes. There’s — there’s some- 
thing there that I want to see. If you’ll let 
me, why, nobody shall ever know about Viola’s 
cheating.” 

“ It’s father’s old workshop ; there’s nothing 


18 


BlLBERkV^ BOYS AND GIRLS. 


there," Amasa said. “Nobody ever goes near it 
but Lizette." 

Cosy hesitated a little, then he decided that it 
would be as well to be more frank ; Amasa was so 
stupid. “ She’s up to something, Lizette is," he 
said, in an impressive whisper. “ I’ve seen a light 
burning in that workshop half the night ! She’s 
trying to make an improvement on the knitting- 
machine that they use in the factory. Of course 
she can’t do it — a girl ! — but you’d better look 
out or it will kill her, just as it killed your father. 
How do I know what she’s doing } ' She told Emily 
Norcross " — Emily Norcross was the daughter of 
the owner of the factory — “ and Emily told Thad. 
Thad and I have been trying, too. We’ve got 
things fixed now so’st we expect to get a patent. 
What I want to see is whether she’s got anything 
that’s likely to interfere with us ; of course she 
hasn’t really, but then girls think they can." 

Amasa felt desperately that this was too great 
a problem to suddenly confront a fellow like him, 
whom every one knew to be stupid. It seemed 
a trifle, but Cosy Pringle would want nothing but 
a good bargain. Still, there was no other way ; 
disgrace to Viola would mean heart-break to Li- 
zette.’’ 

“ Give me the paper," he said gruffly, and 
thrusting it into his pocket, he led the way softly 
through the corridor to the woodshed chamber. 


THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. 1 9 

Cosy was breathlessly eager over some queer 
bits of machinery which Amasa could not under- 
stand. He staid but a few minutes, as he had 
promised, but he stammered with excitement when 
he went away. 

Amasa spent three miserable days, filling the 
woodbox so assiduously that Viola asked him if 
he thought she was going to bake for the County 
Conference, and hoeing the string-beans until Li- 
zette was tenderly sure that his back ached, and 
advised him to go fishing. 

But a boy may have troubles of the mind which 
even fishing cannot cure. 

Lizette came home from her work with a radi- 
ant face on the third day. “Amasa, how came 
you to let Cosy Pringle go into the workshop ? ” 
she exclaimed. “ But I can’t scold you, it has 
turned out so beautifully ! I have been trying a 
little invention — oh, for a long time ! I never 
thought it could really succeed ! ” Lizette looked 
as fresh and bright as if all the work and care had 
been a dream. “ Cosy saw it, and told Thad Nor- 
cross. It seems he and Thad had been trying to 
do the same sort of thing — mere boys’ play, of 
course — and Thad told his father. Mr. Norcross 
will help me to get a patent ! Viola ! Amasa ! he 
says it may be worth a great deal of money ! ” 

Lizette and Viola were crying for joy ; but 
Amasa could think only of the horror of Viola’s 


20 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


disgrace, for now, of course. Cosy Pringle would 
tell. 

“You won’t think anything now of my little 
triumph,” said Viola, when they had calmed down 
a little, and sat down to supper. “ ‘ Schoolgirl 
Friendships ’ is to be published in full in the Bil- 
berry Beacon next Saturday, with my own name 
signed to .it — not Lilia Carryl, as I signed it two 
years ago, when I sent it to the Gilead Gleaner. 
Oh, what a flutter I was in then ! and I never dared 
to let a soul know it! The editor of the Beacon 
made me write a foot-note telling all about it.” 

“ I’m an awful jackass,” said Amasa, his voice 
gruff with joy and shame. 

“ You’re the dearest boy in the world,” said 
Lizette. “ But I don’t want you to associate with 
Cosy Pringle. I don’t see why you never have 
a nice boy for a friend — like Grif Horner, who is 
such a comfort to his mother.” 

“ Curly hair and wears his mother’s apron ! 
Grif Horner is a sissy,” said Amasa scornfully. 


THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS. 


21 


CHAPTER II. 

THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS. 

P eople said that Grif Horner must have eaten 
of the alewives in Round Pond, because he 
was the only boy who didn’t seem eager to get 
away from Bilberry. It was an old tradition that 
there was a charm about the alewives which kept 
a boy at home, no matter how dull home might be ; 
and Bilberry was certainly dull, with no business 
opening whatever for an ambitious boy with a trad- 
ing bump. 

No one suspected that Grif was an ambitious 
boy with a trading bump, but we all have our little 
secrets. The other boys said that he was tied to 
his mother’s apron-strings.” 

They even went so far as to call him Sissy ; ” 
but this was chiefly because his hair would curl in 
tight little ringlets all over his head, and they had 
seen him, with a long calico apron tied around his 
neck, washing dishes for his mother. She had had 
rheumatism, and the fingers of one hand were out 
of shape. 

The other Horner boys were called smart.” 


22 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS, 


Lyman, the eldest, had inherited his father’s busi- 
ness of storekeeping down at the Port. Their un- 
cle had taken Clem, the second, into his clothes-pin 
factory, which was also at the Port, and promised 
to make him a partner in time. And Horace, who 
was thought to be mentally the most gifted, was in 
a lawyer’s office at Potoxet. 

Only Grif and his mother remained upon the 
little run-out ” farm, which yielded hardly vegeta- 
bles enough for their own use. There was a little 
investment, the interest from which just served to 
keep their heads above water. As for Grif, who 
was now almost sixteen, he did what was to be 
done upon the farm, as well as most of the house- 
work. 

“ Grif is my girl,” his mother said laughingly, to 
Mrs. Deacon Parkes, who was spending the after- 
noon with her, sewing ; and she did not observe 
that Grif winced and grew very red in the face. 

Girls are very well in their way, as we all know, 
but there never was a boy who liked to be called a 
girL That night, after his mother had gone to 
bed, Grif sat on the doorstep, and thought and 
thought until his heart burned within him. 

No one knew what his father had said to him 
the night before he died, but Grif could not forget 
the earnest words : It’s for you to stay at home 
and take care of your mother, Grif. I shall die 
easier knowing that you’ll do it.” 


THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS. 23 

Of course it was for him ! All the others had 
been full of their plans, and only Grif had said 
nothing. He was often at the foot of the class, 
too, and no one understood that it was chiefly 
because he was diffident, and because the school- 
master’s sharpness and the scholars’ ready titters 
disconcerted him. 

Only when Clem, who wanted to be a cowboy, 
or, at least, to go to a Texas ranch, was given a 
place in the clothes-pin factory did Grif feel a 
little bitter. Clem had no head for business, and, 
although no one believed it, Grif was sure that he 
had. 

He was very fond of his mother, but he wanted 
to do something besides wash the dishes and iron 
the clothes for her. He wanted to make her proud 
of him, instead of just a little ashamed, as he knew 
she was now, in spite of the comfort he was to 
her. If there were only a business opening in 
Bilberry — anything to do to keep a boy with a 
trading bump from eating his heart out in idleness 
and girls’ work ! 

And even the girls, right there in Bilberry, were 
doing greater things than he could do. Viola 
Treddick had written a poem that had been printed 
in a paper, and Lizette Treddick had invented an 
attachment to a knitting-machine that was used in 
the stocking-factory. She had got it patented and 
was making a lot of money by it. And she wa§ 


24 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


going to send her brother Amasa away to school 
— Amasa Treddick, who was like the queen in 
Alice’s Wonderland ; he could do addition if you 
gave him time. 

Lysander Perrigo, ’Sander, as he was called, 
had a chance to work his way through St. Luke’s 
School at Holdfast — that was a chance for you! 
And ’Sander wasn’t smart, either, for a Bilberry boy. 

That great lout of a Peter Judkins was to be 
sent to that school too. A good fellow, Peter, but 
what good would an education do him ? It looked 
as if every boy and girl in Bilberry were going to 
have a chance to be somebody — every one but 
him. 

The only person whom he had ever taken into 
his confidence in the slightest degree was old 
Gran’ther Petherick, who lived at the poor-farm, 
adjoining theirs. 

** Folks’s chances is generally nigher to hand 
than they think, and don’t you go to despisin’ the 
day of small things,” said Gran’ther Petherick, 
who was a philosopher. “ Don’t be in too great a 
hurry to get away from the place where the Lord 
has sot ye. F'or it ain’t as if he didn’t know what 
he was about,” added Gran’ther Petherick rever- 
ently. 

But Grif would like to know what chances there 
were for a boy in Bilberry. A man had once 
wanted him to take the town agency for a new 


THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS. 


25 


preparation to kill potato bugs, but he had found 
out just in time that it killed the vines as well as 
the bugs. Some people might have accepted the 
agency without making a trial of the “ Blue-Streak 
Annihilator,” but that was not Grif’s way. 

Then, there was the agency for the pinless 
clothes-line which had been offered to him last 
week. He might have taken that if he had not 
thought in a moment of Uncle Josephus and the 
clothes-pin factory. It would never do for him to 
set up such an opposition as that ! The boys and 
girls would titter, as they had done at school when 
he went to the foot of his class, and Uncle Jo- 
sephus would think less of him than ever. Uncle 
Josephus had always been among those who proph- 
esied that Grif would never amount to anything.” 

As he sat on the doorstep, alone in the dark- 
ness, with the crickets’ doleful chirping in his ears, 
it seemed to Grif that he should always go on hoe- 
ing potatoes and washing dishes. He could see 
himself, a little, bent, and grisly old man, still with 
the long calico apron tied around his neck. 

And then suddenly the New York market re- 
port, which he had read on a scrap of newspaper 
in Lyman’s store, flashed into his mind. “Water- 
cress in great demand ” was one of the items. 

Their brook was full of watercress. They never 
ate it ; but Aunt Sabrina Norton, who lived in Po- 
toxet, always wanted it when she visited them, and 


26 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


the proprietor of the hotel at the Port had once sent 
for some. Grif’s mother had laughed. She said 
“ she should just as soon think of eating grass.” 

But Grif went in to the house, and laboriously, 
by the light of a tallow candle, — his mother was 
afraid of kerosene, — wrote a letter to the keeper 
of a stall in a great New York market, whose name 
he had seen in the report. The next morning he 
sent his letter, and a day or two after that, just at 
nightfall, their neighbor, Isaiah Moody, stopped at 
the gate and held up a telegram. 

Isaiah Moody was much excited, for telegrams 
were not common in Bilberry, and Grif s mother 
began to cry in her apron, because she thought 
they always meant ill news. 

Send at once,” the message read ; and Grif ex- 
plained briefly to Isaiah Moody that it was only 
a little matter of business,” v^hile his mother dried 
her eyes and stared at him in amazement. He felt 
obliged to tell her about the watercress, and she 
said “it seemed like child’s play, and she hoped 
it wouldn’t cost him more than it came to.” 

When, three weeks later, he told her he was 
going to New York on business, his mother stared 
at him in even greater amazement. He had been 
sending the crisp, fragrant cress from the brook 
just about as fast as his old horse, Drom, could 
carry it to the Port station ; but he said very little 
about his receipts. 


THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS. 


27 


His mother was worried lest Lyman or Uncle 
Josephus should be called upon to pay the ex- 
penses. She said she didn’t know what was the 
matter with Grif ; he “ acted as if something had 
flew to his head.” 

Grif came home from New York with another 
project in his mind. The brook could help to raise 
something besides watercress. He was going to 
rai§e Pekin ducks, and Russian geese three feet 
tall! He had bought a pair of each to begin with. 

He didn’t dare tell his mother what he paid for 
them, lest she should send for Uncle Josephus at 
once. He told her he had found out what could 
be done on the farm, and she comforted herself by 
thinking that, perhaps, after all, it would be better 
than nothing for Grif, who wasn’t smart,” like 
the others — if only he didn’t run into debt. 

Grif kept on his way, and when the watercress 
was buried under ice and snow, sent his poultry to 
market. 

The next spring he bought a new horse, — the 
loads were too much for old Drom, — and Uncle 
Josephus came hurrying up the hill, with a scowl 
on his face, to say that ‘‘ he needn’t be expected to 
pay for that horse.” Grif’s mother aroused her- 
self to reply that “ Grif seemed to know what he 
was about,” but inwardly she had fears. 

But Grif himself had a brisk and confident air. 
He had grown taller — or was it only that he held 


28 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


his head higher? He would not say much about 
his business, but that was Grif’s way ; he could 
not help being reticent. 

Clem was the only one who approved of him. 

I wish I had had sense enough to try to do some- 
thing on the farm,” Clem said. “I hate the fac- 
tory. Feel as if I was turning into a clothes-pin 
myself.” 

*‘You don’t see what might be done there. 
Uncle Josephus has got into a rut. It doesn’t do 
to get into ruts in business,” said Grif sagely. 

It was a year and a half after his first venture 
when Grif announced to his mother that Mary 
Abby Sprowle, who was known to be a very ca- 
pable and faithful girl, was looking for a place as 
domestic, and he thought they should hire her. 
He would pay her out of the proceeds of his busi- 
ness. And, with a long, long sigh, he hung the 
calico apron up on its nail for the last time. 

“ I shall never wash dishes again,” he said 
firmly. His mother looked at him with sudden 
comprehension in her half-tearful eyes. 

I never knew you didn’t like it, Grif,” she 
said. You always washed ’em so well ! ” 

Bilberry, in which no one ever expected any- 
thing to happen, had a sensation at last. Uncle 
Josephus, who was so much afraid that other peo- 
ple would get into debt, did that very thing him- 
self I 


THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS. 


29 


There were rumors, which at first no one be- 
lieved, that he was on the verge of bankruptcy. 
People didn’t see how it could be so ; he had al- 
ways been so slow and cautious. But it appeared 
that he had been a little too slow ; rival manufac- 
tories, with more enterprise, had sprung up, and 
crowded his wares out of the market. The busi- 
ness had been gradually declining for a long time, 
and now the simultaneous failure of two men who 
owed him brought about a crisis. Uncle Josephus 
had notes to pay which he could not meet. 

Grif wanted to go down and have a little talk 
with him about business, but he could not quite 
make up his mind to do it. He was almost eigh- 
teen now, but Uncle Josephus still regarded him 
as the one who was not “ smart.” 

It was not long before Uncle Josephus came up 
the hill to tell his troubles, and receive sympathy 
from Grif’s mother. He looked so worn and wor- 
ried that Grif’s mother began to cry at once, and 
even Grif, who had never been fond of Uncle Jose- 
phus, felt a lump in his throat. 

“ It’s all over, Nancy, and I’m a ruined man ! ” 
said Uncle Josephus, shaking his head as if he 
had the palsy. “ They say it’s because I’m an old 
fogy, and that new blood was needed in the con- 
cern. Clem’s of no use ; he might as well have been 
raising greens and geese, like this fellow here ! ” 
Uncle Josephus jerked his thumb somewhat con- 


30 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


temptuously toward Grif. Lyman ought to be 
able to help me now, but he says it’s as much as 
he can do to keep his own head above water.” 

“ If — if a little money would do any good ” — 
stammered Grif. 

Uncle Josephus threw back his head and laughed 
in spite of his trouble. 

A little money ! Well, now, youngster, how 
much of a golden egg has your goose laid.^^” he cried. 

“ I haven’t quite a thousand dollars yet ” — 

“A thousand dollars! ” echoed Uncle Josephus 
and his mother in chorus. 

‘‘ I haven’t had to spend any, you know,” said 
Grif. Of course I know that amount of money 
wouldn’t help much, but what I was going to say 
was that I have friends in New York. I’ve been 
down there several times, you know. There’s one 
man — a big marketman — that I’ve talked with a 
good deal, and he says he likes my ideas about 
business,” said Grif, with modest pride. 

Grif’s ideas about business I Uncle Josephus 
fairly gasped for breath, and his mouth opened 
with astonishment. 

“ If he should know about the factory,” con- 
tinued Grif, — ‘‘ what a chance there is there, with 
the great quantity of woodland which can be 
bought for a song, and such water-power for a 
sawmill, and a chance to increase the business and 
make other kinds of wooden ware ” — 


The day of small th/jvgs. 31 

** Well, I never ! ” exclaimed Uncle Josephus. 

‘‘If you’ll go down to New York with me to- 
morrow ” — suggested Grif. 

“ Well, I don’t know as there’s any need of me,” 
said Uncle Josephus, with only the faintest touch 
of sarcasm. 

Uncle Josephus went, and found that Grif had 
made no vain boast of his influential friend. The 
man stipulated that, when the difficulty was tided 
over, the business should be extended as Grif sug- 
gested, and that as soon as Grif had mastered the 
details he should have a share in it. 

Clem begged to be allowed to take Grif’s busi- 
ness of “ raising greens and geese ” off his hands. 
He said he should like it almost as well as a Texas 
ranch. 

“ Nancy,” said Uncle Josephus sternly, to his 
sister-in-law six months later, “ I don’t know what 
you were thinking of to keep that boy in bib and 
tucker as you did ! To think of a boy with such 
a head for business as he has doing housework like 
a girl ! ” 

“ I don’t like to think of it, but he did it so 
well ! ” said Grif’s mother apologetically. 

And neither she nor Uncle Josephus thought 
that the fact that he did it so well was one great 
reason why he was turning out so fine a business 
man. But they were not philosophers, like Gran’- 
ther Petherick at the poor-farm. 


32 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER III. 


LUDY jane’s idea. 


OW, Grif Horner was not the only boy in 



1 1 Bilberry who had the sort of brains out 
of which ideas grow. There was a girl, too, who 
thought she had a bright idea. Her wits were 
sharpened by love and gratitude, so it ought to 
have been a bright one ; but it is really very dif- 
ficult to tell how ideas are going to work them- 
selves out in this world. One thing I will vouch 
for, she had as honest and faithful a heart as ever 
a girl had, even in Bilberry. Whether her idea was 
a bright one — well, I will leave you to find that 
out for yourself. 

The Tackaberrys lived in the Creeper House ” 
on Bilberry Hill. It was called the Creeper 
House,” because Aunt Tackaberry had planted 
vines, which completely covered it, except the win- 
dows ; and in Bilberry they called vines “ creep- 
ers.” Woodbine, climbing roses, and cinnamon 
vines adorned the front, while hops, rampant Jen- 
nie, morning-glories, and scarlet beans covered un- 
sightly nooks and corners. There were a good 


LUDY JANE'S IDEA. 


33 


many of these, it must be acknowledged ; for an 
increasing family had led Uncle Tackaberry to 
build additions, — a room here, a closet there, 
and a woodshed in another place, — and he held 
somewhat eccentric views with regard to architec- 
ture, and still more eccentric ideas in the matter 
of paint. If funds ran low, — as, alas ! they were 
apt to do in the Tackaberry family, — he bought 
whatever color was cheapest ; or if a neighbor had 
some paint left that he wished to dispose of. Uncle 
Tackaberry would buy it to oblige him, although 
he might have to finish his red porch with pea- 
green paint. He would remark that he quite liked 
a variety himself ; he thought it looked cheerful. 

And that is a fair example of the way in which 
they got along together in the Tackaberry family, 
where relations were about as queerly mixed as 
Uncle Tackaberry’s paint. 

In the first place, there were Uncle and Aunt 
Tackaberry, who were really uncle and aunt to no 
one in the world, but were an old bachelor and 
spinster brother and sister, who would have been 
quite alone in the world if they had been of a na- 
ture to make that possible. When they first went 
to housekeeping. Aunt Tackaberry had only two 
cats (rescued from vagrant and unprincipled lives) 
and a lame robin to set her heart upon, while 
Uncle Tackaberry tried to devote himself to a 
remarkably unpromising pig; but before the year 


34 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


was out, their second cousin had died in a distant 
city, and left twin babies waifs upon the world. 
Aunt Tackaberry felt that it was a great oppor- 
tunity ; but she was a little afraid that her brother 
might not share this feeling, they had to work so 
hard to keep the wolf from the door. 

“There’s the silver mug that was little sister 
Roxy’s running to waste ; it seems such a pity,” 
she said ; “ and the flowered china mug, with ‘ Con- 
sider the lilies ’ on it, would do for the other one ; 
and the high-top sweeting trees bearing so wonder- 
fully, and you and I liking tart apples — seems a 
pity ; and when I’m frying doughnuts it’s so easy 
to make a doughnut boy or two, or — or pop-corn 
balls, and — and I think the robin’s lonesome.” 
Aunt Tackaberry grew almost incoherent in her 
eagerness. 

“ And we really ought to get our share of the 
school privileges, since we always pay our taxes,” 
said Uncle Tackaberry, who prided himself on his 
shrewdness. 

So it came about that the homeless twins be- 
came little Tackaberrys, and grew and throve ; and 
as it was a remarkable harvest year, even the ster- 
ile little farm on Bilberry Hill blossomed like the 
rose, and everything they undertook prospered, and 
the house began to grow, and Aunt Tackaberry 
began to plant creepers. 

The next addition to the family was half-witted 


LUDY JANE'S IDEA. 


35 


Jake Stum eke, who had a wild terror of the poor- 
house. Uncle Tackaberry said Jake could do 
chores that they would have to pay a hired man 
for doing, so he “calculated they should get the 
best of the bargain, if folks down in the village 
did say they couldn’t afford it.” 

It was in the same year that they took little 
Enoch. His mother was old Parson Enoch Tap- 
ley’s daughter, and when she married Freedom 
Ramsey he was a promising young man. Ricker- 
by’s Hotel at the Corner had been his ruin. He 
was killed in a drunken quarrel ; and his wife died 
of consumption in the poor-house, and left little 
Enoch, another small baby for whom there seemed 
to be no room in the great world. 

Little Enoch was a puny baby, with a head much 
too large in proportion to the rest of his body, and 
a neighbor aroused Aunt Tackaberry’ s indignation 
by saying he “wouldn’t be a burden on anybody 
long.” But little Enoch grew and throve as the 
twins had grown and thriven ; people said “ the air 
was so good up there on Bilberry Hill ; ” and no 
one but the Tackaberry s themselves knew what 
loving, tireless care and nursing had brought the 
bloom to the baby’s face and the firm roundness to 
his limbs. And before a great while Uncle Tacka- 
berry was chuckling over the discomfiture of those 
who had declared, judging by the size of his head, 
that he would never be “bright,” for he developed 


36 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

an astonishing quickness. The great head was es- 
pecially “a head for figures,” as Uncle Tackaberry 
proudly declared. Before little Enoch was seven 
years old, Uncle Tackaberry sat in the store and 
boasted of his feats at ciphering.” There was 
one drawback to this happiness ; little Enoch at 
seven was no larger than a child of three or four, 
he seemed to have ceased to grow. 

It was when little Enoch was almost eight and 
the twins were half-past eleven that old Mrs. Gil- 
christ had trouble with Luella Jane My rick, a girl 
of thirteen, who was “ bound out ” to her. She 
said she “was so saucy she couldn’t put up with 
her, anyhow ; ” and Luella Jane, for her part, had 
tried to run away. Aunt and Uncle Tackaberry 
felt some doubts and fears this time, the Creeper 
House was such a peaceful abode ; the cats and 
dogs agreed, and even the turkey gobbler was of 
a mild disposition; but when the “poor-mistress” 
declared that she “ wasn’t going to have the house 
upset by an unruly girl,” and Bilberry began to 
talk of sending Luella Jane to the reform school, 
they hesitated no longer. 

So it happened that one spring morning Luella 
Jane walked into the Creeper House, a tall, awk- 
ward girl, with a small pinched face and tow-colored 
hair, which was drawn so tightly back from her 
forehead, and into such a tight little braid at the 
back, that it seemed to be responsible for the sin- 


LUDY JANETS IDEA. 


37 


gularly round and wide-open appearance of her 
eyes. 

I hope you ain’t sarcy folks,” she announced. 
‘‘ Old Mis’ Gilchrist sarced me, and I talked back, 
and then she licked me.” 

Oh, dear, dear!” murmured gentle Aunt Tack- 
aberry, in dismay. 

‘‘But mebbe she had to,” continued Luella Jane 
candidly. “I expect I be an awful young one. 
And I made her fidgety eatin’ so much; she cal- 
c’lated I’d bring her to the poor-house. I be hearty 
to my victuals, but then I’m real smart to work.” 

“I’m afraid we don’t know howto train her,” 
said Uncle Tackaberry to Aunt Tackaberry, as soon 
as they were alone. 

“I’m afraid we don’t,” replied Aunt Tackaberry 
mournfully. “We shall have to try to get along 
by just being kind to her.” 

This treatment seemed to act as a surprise upon 
Luella Jane, or Ludy Jane, as little Enoch set the 
fashion of calling her. But her quick intelligence 
and keen sensibilities responded to it at once. 
The very atmosphere of the Creeper House soft- 
ened her voice and her ways, and before long even 
her thoughts. If she had been as turbulent a 
spirit as she had been reported to be, she might 
have ruined the peace of the Creeper House ; but, 
poor Ludy Jane I her impertinence was only the 
bristling armor of ignorance against hardship and 


38 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS, 


unkindness, and it dropped off when there was no 
longer any occasion for it. Ludy Jane confided 
to one of her old friends that when she woke up 
in the night, she pinched herself to be sure she 
hadn’t died and gone to heaven, she was so happy 
to be Ludy Jane Tackaberry and have “ own folks. 

It was the summer after Ludy Jane came to the 
Creeper House that Uncle Tackaberry signed a 
note for his old friend Daniel Rice, the miller, and 
lost all the money he had saved, and had to mort- 
gage the farm for all it was worth. That was a 
sad time at the Creeper House. The old wolf that 
had been kept at a respectful distance came again 
prowling and howling around the house, and fairly 
got his nose in at the door. Things grew worse 
and worse, until by Thanksgiving-time it looked 
as if there were to be no Thanksgiving at all. 

People had always said that it seemed as if 
Thanksgiving began on Bilberry Hill, and spread 
down through the village, the Creeper House was 
so full of it ; the chimney roared and smoked for 
a week beforehand, and every one gleefully helped 
to beat eggs and seed raisins and crack nuts ; and 
when the great day came, what a throng of com- 
pany there would be, for they had hosts of friends, 
if they had no relatives, and the poorest, the most 
neglected, were always those who were bidden to 
the Creeper House ! 

Ludy Jane heard people talking in the store one 


LUDY /A ATE'S IDEA. 


39 


day when she went to buy a quart of molasses. 
She was behind the great stove, and they didn’t 
see her. 

I expect they’ll be lucky if they have as much 
as a bit of bacon for their Thanksgiving dinner,” 
said one. ‘‘ But what could they expect, burden- 
ing themselves with that lot of paupers } So many 
mouths to feed ! And Mrs. Gilchrist says that girl 
that lived with her came near eating her out of 
house and home. And those chubby twins and that 
idiot, what are they good for That little dwarf, 
with his big head and his ’rithmetic, he’s like a 
curiosity in a show.” 

Ludy Jane went homeward with her heart as 
heavy as lead. So many mouths to feed ! ” That 
was true, though when she had overheard Uncle 
and Aunt Tackaberry talking over the troubles, 
they had not mentioned that one ; they never 
seemed to think there were too many. And she 
was << hearty,” that was true too. But she rolled 
her sleeve up, and looked at her arm with a glow 
of satisfaction ; it had grown thin ; it was almost 
as thin as when she came to the Creeper House. 
For a long time she had not eaten as much as she 
wanted ; she had slyly hidden her doughnuts, and 
slipped them back into the jar, and she had pre- 
tended she didn’t like her hot gingerbread. Aunt 
Tackaberry had found her out, and had scolded her 
gently, and had made her an apple turnover, which 


40 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


she liked best of anything. Ludy Jane wiped her 
eyes with her mitten as she thought of it. But 
there were no apple turnovers at all now ; it was 
literally true about the bit of bacon, for they had 
been obliged to “ turn ” at the stores their chick- 
ens and turkeys, and almost everything they had 
raised, for flour and shoes and other necessaries of 
life. Something must be done, and it seemed 
clear to Ludy Jane that she was the one to do it. 
She had a high opinion of her own “ smartness.” 
Had not even old Mrs. Gilchrist admitted that she 
had “faculty ” } And had she not paid two dollars 
and sixty-seven cents of the interest on that ter- 
rible mortgage.^ Ludy Jane’s heart swelled high 
with pride as she thought of it. She had earned 
five dollars by picking berries. Uncle and Aunt 
Tackaberry had made her keep the rest to buy 
herself a plaid dress. It had been a joy, that plaid 
dress, but now there was but scanty comfort in it. 

But for all her dejection Ludy Jane had an idea. 
She went into the house with her head held very 
high, and she was very severe toward the unfortu- 
nate possessors of the many mouths which were 
devouring Uncle and Aunt Tackaberry’s substance. 

“You’d ought to grow, so as to ketch up with 
your head, and be good for something,” she said 
sternly to- Iktle Enoch, who was her favorite among 
the children. “ You might be a business man, 
like Grif Horner, if you could ketch up with your 


LUDY JANETS IDEA. 


41 


head.” And little Enoch, who fdt as if the sky 
had fallen when Ludy Jane frowned, went out to 
his measuring-mark in the woodshed for the sec- 
ond time that very day, and found it hard to keep 
back the tears, like a man, when his head did not 
come the least bit higher. 

After Ludy Jane had seriously reproved the 
twins for being so plump, and had scolded Jake for 
idleness, until he had begun to bring in wood and 
water with such zeal that the kitchen was almost 
full, she took a newspaper down from behind the 
clock, and read something over two or three times 
anxiously, and then she went in search of little 
Enoch. She found him sitting with the pig, in 
the cold, as he had a way of doing when he was 
melancholy, and wishing he could find the fairy 
who made Jack’s beanstalk grow so fast. 

“ But perhaps it’s all the better that you are 
so little,” said Ludy Jane encouragingly. Would 
you like to earn a lot of money for Uncle and Aunt 
Tackaberry } And then we’d have a Thanksgiving. 
Oh, such a Thanksgiving! I’ll tell you how. 
There’s a great show down at Marketville. They 
have got ‘giants, and a skeleton, and a mermaid, 
and a man that swallows swords, and an educated 
bear, and a man with two heads, and a girl who 
never eats anything. I wonder how she does it I ” 
Ludy Jane was suddenly so impressed by this 
idea as almost to lose the thread of her discourse. 


42 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


** Oh, and elephants and monkeys and wild men ! 
Of course it’s beautiful to see them ; but they 
haven’t got any dwarf or midget. That’s what 
they call little people. Somebody gave Jake a 
paper with all about it. And they pay midgets 
a lot of money ; I read so. And then there’s your 
’rithmetic. You’re ’most like the lightning calcu- 
lator that exhibited at the schoolhouse. Do you 
suppose you could do your ’rithmetic before a lot 
of folks ? Because I’m going to take you to the 
show and exhibit you. You’ll go, won’t you ? ” 

“Yes, I’ll go. Does it hurt to be ’zibited 
But I’ll go if it does,” said little Enoch manfully. 

“ You mustn’t say a word about it ; not a word 
— because we want to surprise Uncle and Aunt 
Tackaberry with the money, and we’ll bring home 
loads of goodies for Thanksgiving. I’m going to 
ask Ben Holliday to take us in his market wagon 
to-morrow morning.” 

Ludy Jane had felt it necessary to prepare lit- 
tle Enoch’s mind for his responsibilities ; but she 
thought it prudent not to confide her errand to 
Ben Holliday, who readily agreed to take her and 
little Enoch as passengers to Marketville. Aunt 
Tackaberry gave her consent, thinking it a little 
pleasure trip, and having no suspicion of the 
great enterprise which was agitating Ludy Jane’s 
mind. 

It was very strange and exciting to get up at 


LUDY JANETS IDEA. 


43 


three o’clock and dress one’s self by lamp-light. 
After they got into the great market wagon, among 
the plump* chickens and turkeys, the mammoth 
squashes and pumpkins, the fragrant herbs and 
celery, and the great winter pears that Ben was 
carrying to market, it was perfectly delightful. 
There was a fascination even about the nipping, 
frosty air, and about Ben’s lantern, which showed 
them their breaths in little vapory puffs. And 
Ben, who had been round the world and home 
again ” in the Mermaid, had gathered a store of 
songs and stories, with which he beguiled the way 
until Marketville came in sight quite too soon, and 
daylight put out the lantern. 

It was only a cold gray daylight at first, and 
the men who were opening the markets, or unload- 
ing their produce from farm wagons, to display it 
upon the sidewalk, were sleepy and cross, and 
made unpleasant j okes about “ country greens,” and 
wounded little Enoch’s feelings by saying, just as 
Ludy Jane had said, that he ought to catch up 
with his head.” 

But Ben took them to a queer little eating-house, 
where they had hot coffee, which made you feel 
more as if you could bear being smaller than your 
head,” as little Enoch said, and then Ludy Jane 
politely but firmly bade Ben good-by. 

Ludy Jane had quite the air of being mistress 
of the situation, and if inwardly she was quaking, 


44 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


no one was the wiser. She was obliged to inquire 
the way several times to the “ Grand Metropolitan 
Museum,” and a rascally little street urchin sent 
them a mile out of their way, and little Enoch was 
tired, and the fear of being ’zibited ” was grow- 
ing upon him so that he was pale and trembling, 
but he walked on steadily ; indeed he could not 
well do otherwise, with Ludy Jane’s resolute grip 
upon his arm. 

They reached the place at last, and pushed their 
way through a throng that blocked up the door- 
ways. There was a performance every afternoon, 
and the “ curiosities ” were on exhibition all the 
time. Judging from the posters which covered 
the walls, the girl who never ate anything was the 
great attraction at present, and Ludy Jane deter- 
mined that, if it were possible, she would get ac- 
quainted with her sufficiently to inquire how she 
did it. 

The “head man” whom Ludy Jane inquired for 
seemed to be difficult to find. Busy men turned 
their backs upon her without answering, cross men 
told her to “ get out of the way,” and jocose men 
were the worst of all. Ludy Jane saw that it was 
necessary to assume great dignity. She drew her 
shawl primly about her, made herself as tall as 
possible, and directed a workman standing near 
her to “ tell the head man that a lady had brought 
a great attraction for his show.” The workman 


LUDY JANETS IDEA. 


45 


looked about for the lady, cast a curious glance at 
little Enoch, and ushered Ludy Jane into a small 
office, where three or four men were sitting. Ludy 
Jane announced hej* errand eagerly to a man who 
looked at her pleasantly. He smiled very much 
before she got through, and the other men smiled 
too, and looked curiously at little Enoch. 

“He is a real midget, ain’t he ” asked Ludy 
Jane anxiously. “ And he’s awful cute at arithme- 
tic ; he’s ’most a lightning calculator. You just 
listen to him now ! ” And she proceeded to give 
little Enoch numbers to add and multiply. Little 
Enoch did his best ; but there was a very large 
lump in his throat, and his head felt confused, and 
he was so afraid of making a mistake that he was 
much slower than usual ; and Ludy Jane, anxiously 
reading the faces of the men, knew that they were 
not greatly impressed. But the manager said he 
was “ a smart little fellow,” and the men conversed 
together in low tones. Then one of them opened 
the door, and called to some one to “send Dr. 
Jack there if he was about the place.” And after 
quite an interval, during which another man had 
come into the office who asked Ludy Jane and lit- 
tle Enoch more questions than all the others had 
done, the doctor came. He examined little Enoch’s 
head, and even looked at his tongue, like old Dr. 
Bouncer at Bilberry. 

“ Grow } Of course he’ll grow. There’s noth- 


46 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


ing the matter with him ; he’s a little slow about 
getting started, that’s all,” said the doctor. 

Oh, shall I — shall I be like any other fellow } ” 
cried little Enoch joyfully. 

Ludy Jane thought he was selfish ; she felt a 
pang of disappointment that he was not a midget ; 
and then she suddenly hugged and kissed him self- 
reproachfully. Who could blame little Enoch for 
being glad that he was going to be “ like any other 
fellow ” } And how delighted Uncle and Aunt 
Tackaberry would be ! But, oh, dear ! where was 
the Thanksgiving she had hoped for, and what 
were they going to do about the mortgage } 

The manager gave her two tickets for the after- 
noon performance, but she could not find voice to 
thank him, and then she and little Enoch went out 
of the office. The man who had asked her so 
many questions — Ludy Jane had gathered that he 
was the owner of the building — followed them out, 
and offered to take them home to Bilberry ; he 
said he had an errand in that direction himself. 
But Ludy Jane told him about Ben and the wagon, 
and that little Enoch wanted to see the show. 
And the man slipped a shining silver half-dollar 
into little Enoch’s hand, and went away. 

Ludy Jane took the half-dollar out of the small 
fist in which little Enoch had clutched it, and bit 
it and rung it. 

I calc’lated he might be fooling us with a bad 


LUDY JANE'S IDEA. 


47 


one, but he wa’n’t,” she said. Ludy Jane’s old 
distrust of people had been to some degree re- 
vived by her morning’s experience in Marketville. 
“You’re going to let me save it up to pay the 
interest on the mortgage, ain’t you } ” And little 
Enoch, heroically putting aside visions of taffy and 
marbles, and things that would “ go off,” which 
had danced before his eyes, cheerfully assented. 

The show was truly delightful. Even Ludy 
Jane forgot her troubles when the beautiful little 
trick ponies came on. She did not like the sword- 
swallower much, but little Enoch did ; and he quite 
forgot himself, and jumped upon the seat and 
shouted, when a man cut off his head and then his 
limbs one by one, and “then they all flied together, 
and he 'came a man again.” That was the way in 
which he afterward described it to Aunt Tacka- 
berry. 

When they reached the wagon they found Ben 
waiting for them, all ready to start. Little Enoch 
was so tired and sleepy that Ludy Jane had almost 
carried him for the latter part of the way. He 
gasped out to Ben, — 

“I’m going to grow — to grow like any other 
fellow, and — and ” — 

Then he was fast asleep, and slept all the way 
home, while Ludy Jane sitting heavy-hearted in 
the darkness, with his head on her lap, thought of 
the empty Thanksgiving and the mortgage. 


48 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


How brightly the light shone from the Creeper 
House windows ! It was like Aunt Tackaberry to 
be a little extravagant in the matter of lamps to 
make their home-coming cheerful. 

But what was this ? The living-room, when they 
entered it, looked as if a great horn of plenty had 
been emptied there, so full of Thanksgiving good- 
ies was it. Everything that one could think of to 
eat, it seemed to Ludy Jane, and tempting, mys- 
terious packages here and there and everywhere. 
And surely those were joyful tears that were run- 
ning down Aunt Tackaberry’ s cheeks ; and Uncle 
Tackaberry was winking very hard, and making 
queer little noises in his throat, as he always did 
when he was highly delighted. 

Aunt Tackaberry seized little Enoch and exam- 
ined him, to be sure that he was safe and sound. 
“To think of exhibiting him! Oh, Ludy Jane! 
But all the good fortune has come from it. That 
man who owned the show building, Ludy Jane, 
was Joe Rickerby, who used to keep the tavern at 
the Corner where little Enoch’s father was killed. 
Folks call him Mr. Rickerby, I suppose, now he 
has reformed and grown rich. And he says he’s 
trying to make up, so far as he can, for the harm 
he did when he sold rum. And he wants to pay 
all little Enoch’s expenses, and he gave me a lot 
of money for him, and when he’s twenty-one he is 
going to give him a lot more ; and he’s going to 


LUDY JANETS IDEA. 


49 


help us about the mortgage, so we shall have 
plenty of time to pay it. And such things for 
Thanksgiving ! And a pretty cloak and hat for 
you, Ludy Jane, and toys and everything for little 
. Enoch.’^ 

‘‘ Something that will go off ” asked little 
Enoch eagerly, propping his eyes open with his 
fingers. 

“The thankfulest Thanksgiving, Ludy Jane, and 
what if we hadn’t had you ! ” said Aunt Tackaberry. 

Ludy Jane couldn’t say a word, her heart was 
too full. 

“And 4’m going to grow — to grow like any 
other fellow,” piped up little Enoch, struggling 
with sleep, and with an impression that life had 
turned into a fairy story, “and catch up with my 
head, and be good for something. And I sha’n’t 
have to be ’zibited any more, shall I, Ludy Jane.^” 


50 


BILBERRY BOVS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A LOW TIDE : THE STORY OF A BILBERRY BOY 
AND HIS FIDDLE. 

HERE was a boy who lived on Bilberry Hill 



X about midway between the Creeper House 
and Grif Horner’s, who thought he was just about 
the most abused boy in the world. And it was 
scarcely to be wondered at that he thought so, 
since the most precious treasure he had in the 
world had been destroyed before his very eyes. 

It was only Ben Holliday’s old violin, that he 
had left in the barn chamber. Ben had been the 
“hired man” at Farmer Ramsey’s; and when he 
went off, on the top of the stage, young Pitticus 
Ramsey had followed him, heartsore, with the vio- 
lin. In truth, Pitt had lain awake half the night 
dreading the parting with what, to ordinary percep- 
tions, was only a cracked old fiddle, but whose mu- 
sic had seemed to the boy as the morning stars 
singing together. 

“ I don’t care nothing about the old thing. 
You can have it,” Ben Holliday had said, chan- 
ging his mind even as he extended his hands to 


A LOW TIDE. 


51 


catch the violin which Pitticus was about to toss 
up to him. Ben was thought to be a rather dull 
fellow, but a warm heart quickens the wits. 

Pitt had enjoyed five enchanted weeks with the 
violin. He had never been taught, but he could 
already play more tunes than Ben. He could play 
all the tunes he had ever heard. He practised 
with the bluebirds and the song sparrows ; he was 
only waiting for the bobolinks ! 

People stopped in their carriages on the high- 
way to listen. The teamsters, hauling wood to the 
river, called out for more. Hannah r’Ann cried 
because it was so beautiful.” 

No one would have expected Hannah r’Ann to 
cry — perhaps because she always had so much to 
do. She was Pitt’s sixteen-year-old sister, and 
their mother was dead. Hannah' r’Ann “did as 
well’s she could,” Farmer Ramsey said ; but he 
thought it was hard for him that she couldn’t do 
more. Pitt felt that she might as well bring in a 
little wood and water herself as to be always call- 
ing after him. 

Hannah r’ Ann’s thin, narrow shoulders were 
stooped, and her long, slender hands were hard and 
calloused in some places. She seldom told any 
one how she felt or what she liked ; perhaps that 
was another reason why it seemed very queer that 
the violin made her cry. 

Now, whoever liked it, the violin would be heard 


52 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


no more. Pitt’s father had found him playing on 
it in the barn when he thought he ought to be 
hoeing potatoes, and had thrown it upon the floor 
and ground it to pieces under his heavy cowhide 
heel. He said that was the last time that Pitt 
would waste strumming on Ben Holliday’s old fid- 
dle — he would find out that folks had got to work 
in this world ! 

The farmer thought he was doing right. A fid- 
dle seemed to him an ungodly as well as a useless 
thing ; and yet the expression on the boy’s face 
hurt him — it was such white, dumb misery. It 
was a horror-stricken look, too, as if it were some- 
thing living, human, that he had seen crushed and 
killed. 

Hannah r’Ann was coming down the ladder from 
the hayloft with some eggs in her pink gingham 
apron, and she let the eggs fall. If you had known 
her, you would understand that she must have been 
very much moved to let the eggs fall. 

“ Father, that was a burning shame ! ” she cried. 

Farmey Ramsey could scarcely have felt more 
startled and amazed if the little statue of Justice 
over the new town hall had opened its gilt lips 
and denounced him. He went off to the potato- 
field muttering that people who had children were 
warming vipers in their bosoms. But he could not 
forget what Hannah r’Ann had said. He could 
not have believed that she would be so disrespect- 


A LOW TIDE. 


53 


ful ; she had always been so mild and meek — like 
her mother. So she thought it was a “burning 
shame ! ” 

Pitt strode out of the barn without a word, and 
went down to the potato-field. He hoed so vigor- 
ously that his father began to think that his disci- 
pline had been effectual ; but in truth a desperate 
resolve was forming in the boy’s mind. Hannah 
r’Ann suspected as much, and looked out of the 
pantry window as often as she could find time to 
do so, to make sure that he was still in the potato- 
field. 

Pitt stole out of the house that night with a lit- 
tle bundle of his clothes. He had been obliged to 
wait, in a fever of suspense. Ordinarily his father 
and Hannah r’Ann were in bed by nine o’clock ; 
but to-night his father had stayed up to read the 
Agriculturist^ and Hannah r’Ann — she said — to 
mix bread. 

Pitt was afraid the tide would be low. He was 
going down the river. North Bilberry was near 
the sea, and its narrow river shared the sea’s 
tides. Sometimes the lumbermen’s great rafts 
were stranded there, and often a whole fleet of 
little fishing-smacks. 

Pitt was going to Cromack’s saloon, three miles 
down the river, Cromack had heard him play on 
the violin, and had offered him a situation. Cro- 
mack’s was a resort for the lumbermen on the 


54 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


river, and the crews of the fishing-schooners and 
coasters. It was suspected that drinking and gam- 
bling were carried on there, and once a week there 
was a dance which was apt to end in disorder. 

When Cromack had made him that offer Pitt 
had felt indignant. He had said that a boy could 
not think much of himself who would play for that 
gang at the saloon. But afterward, when the farm 
drudgery was hard and his father harsh, he had re- 
membered how much money Cromack had offered 
him. It was more than a boy could ever earn in 
North Bilberry ; and money made one independent. 

A feHow who could earn so much money need 
not get up at four o’clock in the morning — unless 
he wanted to go fishing. He need not hoe and dig 
and mow until his hands were blistered and his 
back was bent. This thought had recurred to him 
sometimes when Hannah r’Ann couldn’t even play 
checkers of an evening, because she had so much 
mending to do, and his father, to save kerosene, 
thought they had better go to bed if they were not 
working. But when the music made Hannah 
r’Ann cry, he felt, vaguely, yet strongly, that he 
was glad he had never played at Cromack’s. 

When the violin was ground under his father’s 
feet, with that dreadful snapping of strings and a 
little sound that was like a half-sobbing wail — 
then, after the first heartbroken moment, Cro- 
mack’s had beckoned. 



PITT AND HIS FIDDLE. 

“He felt that Hannah ’r Ann might as well bring in a little wood 

and water herself.” 







t ♦ ^ 

; ^ 









i 



I 





A LO IV TIDE. 


55 


The tide was low. It seemed not to have turned 
yet, although by the town clock it was time ; or 
else it was an unusually low tide. The muddy flats 
lay bare as far as one could see in the darkness. 
Pitt had engaged Amasa Treddick’s boat ; luckily 
it was a light one ! He must drag it all the way 
over those flats before he could push off ; and the 
river mud was soft — not like the sandy shore bared 
by the ocean’s tide. 

Pitt felt as if his strength were as the strength 
of ten boys from the excitement of his mood and 
the firmness of his determination, but his muscles 
ached when at length he succeeded in pushing the 
boat into the tide. He drew a long breath of re- 
lief as he felt the boat beneath him, slipping gently 
through the water toward Cromack’s. 

The tide was coming in. It began to be a little 
hard to row against it with cramped and aching 
arms ; but he must have gone nearly a mile now. 
Soon, just below the Bend, he should see the cheer- 
ing lights of Cromack’s. 

Any light would be cheering. A moment later 
the bow of his boat was stuck hard and fast upon 
the mud flats ! He could hear voices in the dark- 
ness ; there was another rowboat in the same pre- 
dicament, waiting for the tide to rise and float it off. 
He recognized Mrs. Deacon Barker’s high-keyed 
voice, with the queer asthmatic whistle in it. The 
boat seemed to be full of women. They had been 


56 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


down to the Bend to prayer-meeting, thought Pitt. 
Since the North Bilberry church was burned, three 
months before, people were always rowing down 
to the Bend to meeting. 

Pitt found that his boat was stuck fast. He 
could not push it off without getting out into the 
deep, soft mud. He decided that he ishould have 
to wait for tide to float him off. In the other boat 
they were talking about raising money to build a 
new church. Mrs. Barker’s voice came shrilly and 
distinctly to his ears. 

Deacon Ramsey isn’t so very close, except to 
his own,” she was saying. “ There’d ought to be 
somebody to do the work there besides that little, 
narrer-chested Hannah r’Ann. I declare, it makes 
my blood boil to see how those two selfish men- 
creturs will sit and see her tug and slave! I’ve 
seen her struggling with a heavy churn while that 
lazy Pitt was fiddling in the barn.” 

“ I s’pose they’re only kind of thoughtless, too, 
as men-folks will be,” came to Pitt’s ears in the 
gentler voice of Mrs. Bouncer, the doctor’s wife. 

“ When Hannah r’Ann is an angel, — and she’s 
pretty nigh being one now, — then mebbe they’ll 
think!” responded Mrs. Barker, sharply. “Well, 
I declare, Mrs. Horner, if you ain’t real smart!” 
she added heartily. 

For, with much puffing and straining, Mrs. Hor- 
ner, fat but energetic, and with the setting of bread 


A LOW TIDE. 


57 


for her Saturday’s baking on her mind, had pushed 
off the boat. 

Pitt drew a long, hard breath. He couldn’t have 
borne any more of that kind of talk, he said to 
himself. He didn’t believe that Mrs. Barker’s 
blood had ever boiled as his was boiling now. To 
call him lazy! He felt of the blisters and the 
callous spots on his hands with satisfaction ; they 
proved that the charge was not true. But about 
that churn — it was too heavy for Hannah r’Ann ; 
and she never had any good times. 

It was very still on the river. The soft lapping 
of the incoming tide was a sound that calmed one’s 
angry excitement and made one drowsy. A soft 
white mist was floating in with the tide. It was 
peaceful and dreamlike — and yet Pitt knew that he 
was not asleep, dreaming ; he knew it when a white, 
angelic shape passed before him on the water. 

An angel — an angel that had once been Han- 
nah r’Ann ! The thin, bowed shape was visible in 
the flowing, white garment ; there seemed to his 
excited imagination a shining halo about the head, 
but Hannah r’Ann’ s thin yellow hair was meekly 
parted beneath it. 

It was visible but for a brief time, but it was 
certainly real — it was no dream ! Mrs. Barker’s 
awful prophecy had been fulfilled so cruelly soon ; 
Hannah r’Ann was an angel, and he had begun to 
think I 


58 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

Had she died in her sleep, utterly worn out, and 
had her ghostly form been sent to tell him ? One 
pang she had been spared — she could not have 
known that he had run away to Cromack’s. 

He worked desperately to push off his boat, its 
bow was so deep into the soft mud, and it was a 
labor of much time. He peered eagerly into the 
mist now and then, but the shining presence had 
vanished. Had she come to assure him of her for- 
giveness ? His sore heart found a little balm of 
comfort in the thought. 

In his final successful effort to get the boat 
afloat, an oar snapped. It was hard work to get 
up the river in the thick mist and darkness, and 
with his strength already overstrained. 

A gray morning sky hung over the village, and 
the earliest stir of the day was already in its 
streets as he hurried through. He wanted to ask 
Link Peavey, the milkman, who had come down 
from their hill, about Hannah r’Ann, but a lump 
in his throat choked back the question. 

There was a thin curl of smoke from the chim- 
ney as he drew near his own home, but no other 
sign of life. Yes, there was a figure at the end 
of the lane, peering down the road as if in search 
of some one. He caught the flutter of Hannah 
r’ Ann’s pink gingham apron, the glint of her yel- 
low hair, and the sob that he had been holding 
down tore its way from his throat — a queer sob, 


A LOW TIDE. 


59 


more full of joy than a laugh could be. A robin 
in the elm-tree over his head echoed it with the 
air of practising a new note without knowing quite 
what to make of it. 

Hannah r’Ann was there, just like herself, only 
a little paler, and with an anxious look in her soft 
blue eyes ! Pitt thrust his bundle of clothes under 
the old lilac-bush, that she might not see it. 

Pitt, I went into your room and found you 
were out, and I was worried,” said Hannah r’Ann. 

I knew it wasn’t a bit like you, but some of the 
North Bilberry boys — go — go down to Cromack’s. 
Don’t be angry, Pitt ! ” for a deep flush had sud- 
denly submerged Pitt’s freckles. Father had been 
so unkind, and I know you have a hard time. 

“ I’m so glad there won’t be such a dreadful place 
as Cromack’s any more ! ” she went on. Link 
Peavey just told me that a sheriff went there at 
midnight, and arrested the whole crowd and closed 
the place. You’ll laugh at me, Pitt, but I went 
down the river last night, hunting for you ! I had 
to go away up to Perrigo’s long slip to push off, 
the tide was so low. It grew so foggy that I had 
to come back before I got as far as the Bend.” 

Pitt reflected a moment. ** You had on your old 
gray waterproof and your little white hood with the 
shiny beads on it,” he said slowly. 

“Did you see me.? Were you rowing on the 
river .? ” asked Hannah r’Ann. 


6o 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“ I was Stuck in the mud,” said Pitt concisely. 

“ So was dear old Parson Plumtree ! ” said Han- 
nah r’Ann. “ He was going down to the Bend, but 
the new minister convinced him that it wouldn’t be 
safe to go on with the fog coming in. They came 
up here, Pitt, last night, just as you were going to 
bed, — you didn’t know that, — and it was to talk 
about you ! There are to be open-air services all 
summer, or until the new church is built, and they 
want you to play for the choir on the violin ! They 
talked a great deal about your talent, and, Pitt, 
father grew really proud of it ! He said he would 
buy you a violin himself. I don’t know what else 
they said, for I ran off to hunt you up ; but this 
morning father told me that he was going to get Em- 
eretta Nickerson to do the housework, and I was 
to go down to Aunt Euphemy’s for a vacation ! ” 
Pitt studied a plot of dandelions with absorbed 
interest. 

There’s lots that a fellow ought to do,” he said, 
in a gruff and mumbling fashion. ‘‘You sha’n’t 
ever tackle that heavy old churn again, anyhow.” 

Farmer Ramsey came up from the pasture-bars, 
where he had been talking with Joel Loomis, the 
ferryman. He brightened a little shamefacedly at 
the brightness of his children’s looks. 

“ Consid’able many folks ketched in the mud last 
night,” he said. “ Lucky you wa’n’t out, Pitt ; 
that river’s a pesky place when the tide’s low.” 


AN OWN RELATION 


6i 


CHAPTER V. 

AN OWN RELATION ; NEW-COMERS TO PIPPIN HILL 
AND WHAT BEFELL THEM THERE. 

T he country- week girl came up the lane ^‘with 
her head in the air,” so Gideon, who was 
watching her from the crotch in the old sweet- 
apple-tree, afterwards remarked to little Adoniram. 

After some hesitation Gideon dropped down at 
her feet. Aunt Esther had especially enjoined it 
upon him to be kind to the country-week girl. 
Aunt Esther would remember that he used to get 
under the bed when Ludy Jane Tackaberry came 
to see Phemie ; but that was when he was small. 

Is this Pippin Hill } Be you Trueworthys } ” 
demanded the girl, looking critically at Gideon. 

“ Yes’m,” said Gideon, and then reddened and 
scorned himself because he had been overpolite. 
But the girl was tall for fourteen — “ Grazella 
Hickins, aged fourteen,” the letter from the Coun- 
try-week Committee had read — and she wore a 
wide sash, and a scarlet feather in her hat, and 
carried a pink parasol. 

Phemie, who came around the corner of the 


62 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


house just then, saw at a glance that the finery 
was shabby, but Gideon thought that Grazella 
Hickins was very stylish. 

Grazella dropped her bundle upon the grass op- 
posite the front gate, and seated herself upon it 
meditatively. She did not arise from it as Phemie 
opened the gate, but she surveyed her with an air 
of friendly criticism ; Phemie was fourteen too. 

“ I like your looks real well,” she remarked at 
length, with a trifle of condescension. Her glance 
sought Gideon and little Adoniram, who peeped 
from behind the friendly shelter of the big black- 
currant-bush. “ I think boys are kind of — mid- 
dling,” she added. It was evident that a more 
severe adjective than this had been withheld only 
from politeness. “ I’ve got an own relation, 
though, that’s an awful nice boy — awful smart 
too ; you never know what he’s going to do next.” 

Little Adoniram pricked up his ears ; Aunt 
Esther had been known to say that of him with- 
out meaning to be complimentary. City standards 
of behavior seemed to be cheerfully different from 
those of Bilberry. 

“ I wouldn’t have said a word if Jicksy could 
have come too,” continued Grazella, and her snap- 
ping black eyes slowly filled with tears. “A cousin 
is a real comfort.” 

Do you mean that you didn’t want to come .? ” 
asked Phemie, in a disappointed tone. 


A AT OWN- RELATION 


63 


Fm in the newspaper business ; ’twas kind of 
risky to leave it ; there’s so many pushin’ in. But 
they don’t want me to home; mother she’s mar- 
ried again, and he don’t like me. Jicksy is all Fve 
got that’s really my own. If he could have come 
too ” — 

She swallowed a lump in her throat with deter- 
mination, and raised her eyes to the old sweet- 
apple-tree, whose fruit was yellowing in the August 
sunshine. 

Are them apples ” she asked. ‘‘ They ain’t 
near so shiny and handsome as Judy Magrath 
keeps on her stand ; Judy shines ’em with her 
apron. I never was in the country before, and I 
don’t know as I’m going to like it. But I’m run 
down, they say, and I’ve got a holler cough, so I 
had to come.” 

Phemie had almost begun to wish that they had 
not taken a country-week girl ; but now she no- 
ticed, suddenly, the meagreness of the tall form, 
and the deep hollows under the snapping black 
eyes, and repented. It was proverbial that people 
grew plump and strong on Pippin Hill. 

Aunt Esther came out, and the girl’s manner 
softened under the influence of her tactful kind- 
ness. She seemed to like Grandpa Trueworthy 
too ; she said she had a grandpa once, and ’twas 
the most she ever did have that was like other 
folks. 


64 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


But, after all, it was she and Gideon who seemed 
most congenial. Gideon explained, with a gravely 
approving wag of the head, that she was “busi- 
ness.” Gideon flattered himself that he had abil- 
ities in that line, and he was cultivating them 
diligently. He had not expected to get any hints 
from a girl ; but the country-week girl was assist- 
ant at a newspaper stand, and she also “tended” 
for Judy Magrath when Judy, as she explained with 
sad and severe head-shakings, was obliged to go to 
a funeral ; but it was Judy’s only infirmity, she 
added, very charitably. 

Of course girls did not generally have such bus- 
iness opportunities as these, and it was Gideon’s 
opinion that she was “ considerable of a girl, any- 
how.” It must be confessed that Aunt Esther 
was a little anxious, and the minister expressed a 
doubtful hope that she would not prove “a cor- 
rupting influence.” Gideon told Grazella all his 
business plans, which Phemie never cared to listen 
to. It was after tea one evening, and he and Gra- 
zella were sitting on the orchard wall, while Phemie 
and little Adoniram shook the old damson-plum- 
tree. He told her of the contract he had made 
with the owners of the canning factory at Bilberry 
Port, to supply them with berries for the whole 
season ; and, what he wouldn’t tell any fellow, of 
the great find he had made — a blackberry thicket 
over on the other side of Doughnut Hill, almost an 


AJV OWN- J^ELATION 


65 


acre, and the berries just beginning to ripen ! He 
was going to sell the plums off his trees, too, and, 
later on, his crab-apples ; he’d got a business open- 
ing, she’d better believe ! 

Grazella’s eyes snapped, and her thin, sallow 
cheeks reddened suddenly. “You ought to have 
a partner ! ” she cried. 

Gideon shook his head doubtfully. It’s awful 
risky takin’ partners,” he said. “ If they ain’t 
smart, you have to do all the work ; if they are, 
they are apt to cheat you. I did think of Pitt 
Ramsey, but all he wants is to fiddle.” 

“Jicksy!” suggested Grazella, wistfully, breath- 
lessly. “I — I’ve got a job for him up here — a 
little one ; I didn’t tell, because I was afraid your 
aunt wouldn’t ask me to stay another week if she 
knew ; she’s scairt of me, and I expect she’d be 
scairter of Jicksy.” (The country-week girl’s eyes 
were sharp.) “ Mr. Ramsey, across the field, said 
he’d give him his board to help him take care of 
his cattle, because his son had gone away to learn 
to be a musician ; and I heard they were wanting a 
boy to blow the organ in church, It wouldn’t suit 
Jicksy to throw away his talents workin’ for his 
board; but he’s crazy for the country, and the 
doctor said ’twould be the makin’ of him, account 
of his heart heatin’ too fast, and whatever he has 
to eat, he always thinks it’s enough to go ’round 
amongst a dozen that’s poorer than him. He 


66 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


could blow the organ, for when he belonged to the 
show he blew up the fat man — all the ingy-rubber 
fixings that made him fat, you know — every day; 
and once he worked for a balloon-man. But if 
you’d take him for a partner in your business ” — 

Grazella’s eyes were so anxious that Gideon 
found it hard to shake his head with the proper 
decision, though he felt strongly doubtful whether 
Jicksy were ‘‘the man for his money.” 

“ He’s coming up to Mr. Ramsey’s, anyway,” 
said Grazella, made hopeful by Gideon’s evident 
weakness. “ And when you see how smart he is, 
you’ll say you wouldn’t have nobody else for a 
partner! He ain’t jest common folks, like you 
and me, anyhow, Jicksy ain’t ; his adopted father 
was a lion-tamer in a circus, awful famous and tal- 
ented; and Jicksy himself has rode elephants and 
camels, and travelled ’round in the boa-constructor’s 
cage, and his own uncle is the wild man of the 
South Seas 1 ” 

Gideon’s prudent mind still hesitated ; he doubted 
whether these wonderful opportunities especially 
fitted a boy for the berry business. 

Nevertheless, when Jicksy arrived, he succeeded 
in convincing Gideon of his desirability as a part- 
ner, and this in spite of the fact that his appear- 
ance was not pleasing. His face was so thin and 
wizened that it made him look like a little old 
man, and his black hair standing upright above 


AN OWN RELATION 


67 


the snapping black eyes, that were remarkably like 
Grazella’s, gave him a fierce and combative aspect. 
Farmer Ramsey professed himself satisfied ; he said 
he was up an’ cornin’, if he wa’n’t very likely- 
lookin’. And he secured the position of organ- 
blower at the village church, an easy matter because 
it was not coveted by the Bilberry boys, owing to 
the fact that the wind in the ancient instrument 
would occasionally give out with an appalling 
screech, -and the luckless and innocent blower was 
always soundly cuffed therefor by the sexton, who 
held that this summary measure was necessary to 
preserve the public respect for the organ — which 
the parish hoped to sell to a struggling young 
church at the Port as soon as it could afford a new 
one. 

And Aunt Esther did invite Grazella to stay an- 
other week. The neighbors thought the reason 
that she gave a very queer one — ‘because she was 
kept awake nights by the hard little cough in the 
room next hers.* 

Gideon had been influenced by Jicksy’s ready 
tongue ; he confided to Phemie that there ought to 
be one good talker in a business firm. He said, too, 
that he didn’t expect an equal share of the profits, 
but realized the value of Gideon’s capital and ex- 
perience. (Gideon had seven dollars and fifty-nine 
cents, which he kept tucked away under the tick- 
ing of his bed, and counted over every night.) 


68 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Jicksy wasn’t extravagant, either, as Gideon had 
feared that he would be. He discovered at once 
that they were paying Steve Pennyphair, the stage- 
driver, too much for carrying the berries to the. 
Port. Link Peavey, the milkman, would carry 
them among his cans for half as much. Gideon 
had thought of asking Peavey ; but the fact was, 
Bobby Peavey often went on the route instead of 
his father, and Bobby was known to be greedy. 
Jicksy managed that difficulty by fastening some 
canvas (old hay-caps) securely over the tops of the 
baskets. Gideon had thought of the plan ; he had 
lain awake half of two nights reckoning how large 
a hole the price of canvas enough would make in 
that seven dollars and fifty-nine cents ; he had 
not thought of those old hay-caps that Jicksy had 
found in the barn chamber. 

Gideon was truly honest, and before the end of 
the second week of the partnership he began to 
wonder whether an ability to think of things ought 
not to offset experience ; and he had brought home 
from the Port library a very large book on the re- 
lations of capital and labor. But before he had 
settled these knotty problems of the partnership in 
his mind, something happened that caused a great 
excitement at North Bilberry, and made many 
people say they were glad they had known better 
than to take country-week children ; for if the girl 
had not been sent to Pippin Hill the boy would 


AN OWN RELATION 


69 


not have come. Jicksey had gone to the canning 
factory at the Port to collect a bill, and he had not 
returned. The amount of the bill was twenty-four 
dollars and sixty-four cents; Gideon had “done” 
the addition seven times over, and then had Phemie 
do it ; strangely enough, thought Gideon, Phemie 
had “a head for figures.” He had run a pitch- 
fork into his foot, so he could not go and collect 
the money himself ; and although he had a pru- 
dent mind, he had not thought of distrusting his 
partner. But he had heard from the factory that 
Jicksy had collected the money — and he had dis- 
appeared. 

As soon as the fact became known there was 
another development ; the minister’s watch was 
also missing. Jicksy had blown the organ for 
three services with fidelity and success ; only once 
had that fatal scream interrupted the devotions of 
the congregation, and then it was in a mild and 
mitigated form. But after the evening service the 
minister had thrust his watch, which he kept on 
the desk while he preached, into the absurd little 
pocket with a tight elastic and a blue ribbon bow 
which his wife had made in the embroidered cover 
of his sermon-case. He explained that he put it 
there because he knew that his wife liked to have 
him (he was young and newly married), and there- 
fore he was sure that his memory was not at fault. 
He had carelessly left the sermon-case on the desk. 


70 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


where the sexton had found it — without the watch. 
The boy who blew the organ was the only one who 
had an opportunity to take it. It was the day after 
this loss that Jicksy took “French leave he had 
“killed two birds with one stone,” Bilberry people 
said. 

Grazella’s eyes snapped continually ; grandpa 
said she was as hoppin’ as a parched pea. She 
said folks had ought to be ashamed of themselves 
that could believe such things of Jicksy. The 
probabilities of the case made no impression what- 
ever on Grazella’s mind. 

The minister’s wife, who had taken a fancy to 
the girl, offered her consolation at the sewing-cir- 
cle, which met two days after Jicksy’ s departure. 

“ You mustn’t think we hold you responsible for 
what he has done,” she said gently. “ He is only 
your cousin.” 

Grazella stood up, her little bony cheeks aflame. 
“He ain’t neither only my cousin. I just let on, 
because he’d got up in the world, and I didn’t want 
folks heavin’ it at him that he had a sister that 
tended for Judy Magrath. He’s my own brother 
as ever was in the world ; and when folks are 
thinkin’ he’s a thief y I just want ’em to know that 
he’s my brother. ‘ Jicksy is smarter’n other folks, 
and you never know what he’ll do next ; and I told 
Gideon that he’d find him an awful square partner, 
and I stick to it — now.” 


AN OWN RELATION 


71 


There were melancholy head-shakings in the 
sewing-circle ; in fact, the whole circle shook its 
head as one woman ; but it was whispered that the 
girl was probably honest, that the little scamp had 
deceived her, as he deceived others. 

But at that very time an exciting rumor was cir- 
culating about Bilberry. Iky Snell shouted it at 
the open window of the room where the sewing- 
circle sat at supper. 

A boy had been seen on the turnpike-road com- 
ing towards Pippin Hill, leading a giraffe. 

“ Looks as if he had a circus procession all to 
himself,” declared Iky enviously ; and if several 
persons who had seen him were not very greatly 
mistaken, the boy was Jicksy. 

If some boys should come home leadin’ a 
giraffe, why, I might be kind of surprised,” re- 
marked grandpa; ‘‘but it does seem jest like 
Jicksy.” 

Grazella, who had been trying to swallow black- 
berry tart mingled with tears, tried very hard to 
be calm, though her thin little face paled and 
flushed. “ You never know what Jicksy will do 
next,” she said proudly. 

Pippin Hill turned out ; so did half Bilberry ; 
every one ran towards the turnpike-road ; even the 
sewing-circle supper-table was deserted in undig- 
nified haste. 

It was Jicksy, footsore and begrimed, and ac- 


72 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


commodating his gait to the tread of a creature 
whose body seemed to be set upon stilts, and whose 
neck might, as Phemie declared, be tied into a 
double bow-knot. The animal was lame, and its 
head wagged in a curious fashion. 

Gideon, seeing his partner afar off, felt a thrill 
of delight in his honesty, which seemed probable 
since he was returning ; but it was followed by a 
painful doubt concerning his “business bump.” 
Jicksy had wished to buy Aaron Green’s old horse, 
which Aaron would sell for twenty dollars. It was 
a good horse for the money, and it could easily be 
kept on their little farm ; and the old blue cart in 
the barn could be repaired at very small expense, 
and perhaps what Jicksy said was true — that 
you had to have some style to a business to adver- 
tise it. Nevertheless, Gideon had not consented 
to buy Aaron Green’s horse ; he had felt that the 
twenty-four dollars and sixty-four cents must go 
under his bed-ticking with the seven dollars and 
fifty-nine cents, where he could count it every 
night. He felt a wild fear that Jicksy had bought 
the giraffe to draw the blue cart, following his the- 
ory that there was nothing like attracting atten- 
tion to your business. 

“ I didn’t run away ! ” Jicksy was saying angrily, 
as Gideon pressed through the crowd. “ Gid un- 
derstood that it was business that kept me, didn’t 
you, Gid } ” But Gideon looked away ; he could 


AN OWN RELATION 


73 


not say that he had understood, and he was certain 
that he didn’t understand now about that giraffe. 

“ I heard that McColloh’s show was stranded 
down to Westport ; that’s the show I b’longed to 
once ; couldn’t pay their bills, and the sheriff was 
after ’em ; I thought maybe I could get a horse 
cheap.” There was silence as the' crowd listened 
to Jicksy’s explanation ; only now and then a shrill 
question interrupted him. Foot it } Of course 
I did.” (It was twenty miles to Westport.) “ I 
wasn’t goin’ to fool away the firm’s money. Corn- 
in’ back I had the giraffe ; they’re slow travellers, 
and Squashy is lame. There wasn’t any horse that 
I could buy — trained horses and Shetland ponies, 
and they were selling high. Squashy is lame and 
old, and sometimes he gets ugly.” (The crowd 
withdrew from Squashy’s vicinity.) “ Me and Nick 
Pridgett could always manage him. Nick is part- 
ner in a show now, and it’s down to Hebron. I 
saw that in the paper. When Jim McColloh says 
to me, * There’s old Squashy ; gets on to his tears 
worse than ever ; you can have him for twenty 
dollars if you want him.’ A giraffe for twenty 
dollars ! If you knew the show business as well as 
I do you’d know that was a big bargain.” Jicksy 
addressed this remark to Gideon, but his partner 
was unresponsive ; he saw, in fancy, the giraffe har- 
nessed to the old blue cart ; the equipage was at- 
tended by crowds, but the berry business was not 


74 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


a circus. “ Quicker’n scat I give him the money,” 
pursued Jicksy, and Gideon groaned. ‘‘Then 
I telegraphed to Nick Pridgett, ‘Will you pay 
fifty dollars for Squashy ? ’ ‘ Bring him along and 

the money is yours,’ telegraphs Nick. So I’m 
bringin’ him along.” The crowd cheered ; Gideon’s 
face brightened; this was business. “And I’ve 
got to bring him along pretty lively,” continued 
Jicksy, “for there isn’t a building in town big 
enough to hold him, unless it’s the church.” 

That made every one think of the watch ; but, 
queerly enough, just at that moment the minister 
was seen running in a very undignified manner up 
the lane. In dressing to officiate at a wedding at 
the Port, he had discovered his watch, chain and 
all, in one of his coat-tail pockets. He said that, 
knowing it was his duty to put it in some unusual 
place, and being absent-minded, he had stowed it 
away there. 

Grazella hushed every one’s exclamations before 
they reached Jicksy’s ears. She said her cousin 
was proud, and she didn’t want him to know that 
he had been suspected of stealing. Her cousin ! 
The sewing-circle ladies looked at each other ; but 
she held her head in the air, and looked so stern 
that no one dared, or had the heart, to contradict 
her. Jicksy was up in the world again, and she 
was not going to have him dragged down by a sis- 
ter who had tended for Judy Magrath ! When 


A AT OWN /^ELATION 


75 


Jicksy returned from Westport bringing a dollar’s 
worth of blue paint to paint the old cart, the part- 
nership was settled upon a firm basis. Jicksy said 
Bilberry was a place that suited him down to the 
ground,” and the minister’s wife had taken Gra- 
zella to live with her. That made him want to 
stay ; they hadn’t any real own folks, but just each 
other. Gideon said that, seeing Jicksy had put 
some capital into the business, as you might say, 
henceforth they would share and share alike. 

They got Grif Horner, who understands busi- 
ness, to draw up a contract, and the firm is flour- 
ishing so that there is a prospect that before long 
Enoch Tackaberry, who has caught up with his 
head,” and is a remarkable mathematician, may 
be hired to keep the accounts. 


76 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 

N the Other side of the town from Bilberry 



Hill was the Port, with its wharves on the 
river, and its long, long toll-bridge. 

Grandma Pettigrew liked to take the toll, for 
she was always ready for a bit of cheerful gossip 
with Bilberry people or strangers. December had 
scarcely more than come when she began telling 
all passers-by, — 

‘‘We’re expecting our Freedom home Christ- 
mas ! ” Her soft little laugh of delight always 
caused home people to look shocked, and the 
strangers to linger for more news of Freedom. 

“ Our Freedom’s in Bagley and Matchell’s great 
store up to Boston, you know,” grandma would 
say, if Aunt Cordelia did not come out to check 
her. “ He’s working his way up, and I expect 
he’ll be one of the firm before long. Squire Bagley 
thinks so much of him.” 

Aunt Cordelia had so often overheard this that 
she would leave the rug she was “hooking” or the 
bed-comforter she was making, and rush out to fore- 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


77 


Stall grandma. And when Sar’ Abby came home 
at night from school, Aunt Cordelia would say, — 

“ She’s making us the laughing-stock of the 
town. I think she’d ought to be told that that 
boy is bringing her gray hairs with sorrow to the 
grave.” 

“ Oh, don’t, don’t. Aunt Cordely ! ” Sar’ Abby 
would say piteously. “ Freedom never did it — 
never ! ” 

“ How can you go on saying such a thing, Sar’ 
Abby ” 

“ He didn’t — I know he didn’t ! ” 

How do you know, child 
Why, he’s Freedo^n, you know/’ 

For when the dreadful news came to the toll- 
house that her brother Freedom had been dis- 
charged from Bagley and Matchell’s for theft, Sar’ 
Abby had stoutly refused to believe him guilty, no 
matter how often Aunt Cordelia called her a 
‘‘child.” Still, one does not like to be called a 
child when one is fifteen, and so Sar’ Abby was 
shy of bringing up the question of Freedom. 

But she persuaded Uncle ’Lisha — who, after a 
long life of vain struggling with a stony farm, had 
come to being a toll-bridge-keeper — that he should 
tell Aunt Cordelia to keep Freedom’s trouble from 
grandma. Sar’ Abby was afraid the evil tidings 
would kill grandma, who liked boys, and believed 
in Freedom above all. 


78 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


So it happened that the dear old woman was 
planning for all possible Christmas merrymaking 
because Freedom was coming home, while even 
Sar’ Abby had almost lost knowledge of the boy’s 
whereabouts. 

Sol Winkley, another Bilberry boy who went to 
Boston to seek his fortune, had come home for 
Thanksgiving with the latest news Sar’ Abby had 
heard of her brother. 

“ I stumbled on Freedom by accident two weeks 
ago,” Sol said, but not to Sar’ Abby. He told 
me he’d been having mighty hard times — been 
sleeping on wharves and doorsteps, and on the 
seats in the Common, and had very little to eat. 
But he wouldn’t take a quarter I offered him. 
There wasn’t much left of the old twinkle in his 
eyes — no, nor anything that looked like Freedom, 
unless ’twas the scar on his forehead that he got 
when his double-runner smashed into Deacon Ram- 
sey’s ox-sled.” 

“ Did he confess he took that money } ” asked 
Sol’s interlocutor. 

Not much he didn’t ! ” And I don’t know that 
he did take it, either,” said Sol uneasily, turning 
to go. 

“Well, your cousin Job thinks he did,” said the 
other. 

“I don’t know that Job is much of a judge of 
character,” said Sol, walking away hastily. 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


79 


As he, too, was now employed in Bagley & 
Matchell’s, the Bilberry folks thought it sensible in 
him to evade talk about the theft. For Sol could 
not protest his belief in Freedom’s innocence with- 
out indirectly attributing injustice to Squire Bag- 
ley, who had discharged the boy ; and it would never 
do in Bilberry to accuse Squire Bagley of anything 
wrong or unwise. 

Squire Bagley was himself the development of a 
poor Bilberry boy who had gone up to Boston years 
before to seek his fortune. Though he found it, 
he never forgot Bilberry. His big store gave em- 
ployment to every bright Bilberry boy for whom 
he could find occupation. His big mansion near 
the village was the residence of his family in the 
summer, and so particularly their home that they 
always came there for a week at Thanksgiving and 
Christmas. Thus Squire Bagley was deservedly 
the potentate and most popular of Bilberry men. 
It would not have been judicious for Sol to cast 
reflections on his employer. 

But Sol Winkley suspected Freedom was inno- 
cent ; and Sol’s cousin. Job Winkley, could have in- 
creased Sol’s doubt if he had wished to. Job had 
been a porter at Bagley & Matchell’s when Free- 
man was discharged. Some months later he had 
come home ailing to Bilberry, confirming the pub- 
lic understanding that he was shiftless as well as 
subject to “spells.” 


8o 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Sar Abby had tried in vain to pry out of Job some 
of the facts concerning the accusation against her 
brother. Job said, “It ’peared as if Freedom took 
the money,” and that was all he would say. But 
his peculiar head-shakings convinced all Bilberry 
that Squire Bagley had not erred. 

“I think I’d better stay home from school. Aunt 
Cordely,” Sar’ Abby had said, when the charge 
against Freedom was in the public mouth. 

“ I guess I wouldn’t if I was you,” Cordelia said 
kindly. “ It’s no blame to you. And you ought 
to go — such a fine scholar as you are. Haven’t 
the committee held you up as an example.^ You 
go — I don’t expect anything else but what you’ll 
be keeping school before you’re seventeen, like 
Lupiry Lamson over to the Falls.” 

A week before Christmas, when Sar’ Abby came 
in from school, she found Aunt Cordelia in an un- 
commonly cheerful frame of mind. 

“ Something good has happened,” she said, “ but 
it kind of rubs the wrong way. Maybe it’s because 
I’m too proud.” V 

“There is word from Freedom.^” cried Sar’ 
Abby. 

“ No, child ; but the selectmen have voted to let 
us keep all the toll Christmas week. I suppose 
they saw the town would have to help us soon, 
the way things are going, and that was as good 
a way as any. It doesn’t look so bad for us as 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


8 


some ways would ; it looks kind of like raising 
our pay.” 

“ O Aunt Cordely, it will be ever so much 
money ! ” cried Sar’ Abby. Everybody goes 
across to Gobang to buy Christmas presents.” 

Gobang was the town on the other side of the 
river, a growing town with large lumbering inter- 
ests, though Bilberry remembered when Gobang 
had been too small and poor to pay half the ex- 
pense of building the bridge that joined the two 
places ; but now Gobang, full of bustle and busi- 
ness, was the only market that the slow-going Bil- 
berry farmers needed. 

Sar’ Abby’s heart sang for joy. Good things al- 
ways happened at Christmas, she told herself. 

“ Maybe we will have enough money to send for 
Freedom, Aunt Cordely,” said she. 

Couldn’t find him if we did, child.” 

Oh, yes, we could. Aunt. Sol Winkley is com- 
ing home for Christmas, the same as he did for 
Thanksgiving. He will be likely to know where 
Freedom is. Good things always happen at Christ- 
mas.” 

The girl impulsively joined her fresh voice to 
the hymn that her grandma and Gran’ther Pether- 
ick, from the poor-house, were singing in the best 
room. 

They had sat in the singing-seats together when 
young ; they loved to sing the old hymns, and 


82 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


now their thin old voices were piping and quaver- 
ing:— 

While shepherds watched their flocks by night, 

All seated on the ground, 

The angel of the Lord came down. 

And glo-o-ory sho-one around. 


Good for you, Sar’ Abby ! ” said grandma, with 
a little soft gurgle of delight, as the girl went in 
to shake hands with Gran’ther Petherick. My, 
you helped us out ! You ain’t a mite afraid but 
what Freedom will come home, I can see.” 

“ I’m ’most sure he’ll come, grandma,” said Sar’ 
Abby stoutly. 

“ I’ve got his red mitts ’most knit already,” 
quavered grandma. “ An’ I’m goin’ to set to work 
a-crackin’ a heap of shagbarks for him — Freedom 
was always great for shagbarks. An’ we might 
hev a turkey, Cordely. Why, with such sleighin’ 
an’ folks cornin’ an’ goin’, afoot an’ all, there’ll be 
more’n a dollar a day in the toll-money — two, 
mebby.” 

But next day came a rain that threatened to 
spoil the sleighing, and for two days afterward the 
travel across the bridge was very light. Bilberry 
Christmas shoppers patronized Mr. Ferris’s little 
fancy-goods store on Bilberry’s main street, and 
Bilberry geese and turkeys intended for the Go- 
bang market were reprieved for three days. 

It was on the third day that Sol Winkley passed 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


83 


the toll-house on his homeward way ; but he had 
only sad news of Freedom for Sar’ Abby, who ran 
out to meet him with a thumping heart. 

“ Freedom and I’ve had different luck,” he said. 
‘‘I’m mighty sorry about Freedom. The last I 
saw of him he was staying in Cat Alley with a 
young man in the boot-blacking business. Don’t 
take on so, Sar’ Abby ; ’tisn’t such a bad business. 
Sometimes things go down for a man, and some- 
times they go up. You remember what hard times 
it was with me last winter } And now ” — Sol 
merely looked down complacently over his new red 
necktie to his very new overcoat. 

“ But Freedom takes it hard,” he went on. “ If 
he had any good clothes to hunt up a job in, he’d 
have more chance. But he didn’t want to stop 
and talk to me.” 

Sar’ Abby went in, choking back her sobs and 
drying her tears lest grandma should take alarm. 
But the dear old woman was absorbed in her 
vision and her hymn. 

“ ‘ Fear no-o-ot ! ’ he cried,” she sang over her 
knitting. “ Sar’ Abby, you don’t expect Freedom’s 
hands will be too small for them mitts, do you } ” 
and she quavered on : — 

Good tidings o-of great jo-oy I bring 
To you-ou-ou and a-all mankind. 

Next morning, but two days before Christmas, 


84 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


was cold and clear. The sleigh-bells jingled 
merrily up to the bridge ; the little hoard of toll- 
money grew quickly, and Sar’ Abby was counting 
it over joyfully when Job Winkley came along 
with his hobbling old horse and dilapidated sled. 

“Why, Job’s going across to Gobang with a 
load of Christmas trees and wreaths!” cried Sar’ 
Abby, looking out of the window. 

“ And well he may,” said Aunt Cordelia. “ He, 
with his wife and three girls, ’most starved out 
there to their crow’s nest of a farm — if you could 
call such a place a farm I ” ' 

“ How pretty the sleigh looks ! My, I hope 
he’ll get ’em all sold,” said Sar’ Abby. 

“Yes, but the trees are scraggly. He took just 
the first he could find. Trust Job Winkley for 
that,” said Aunt Cordelia, coming to the window. 
“ The wreaths ? Well, Clorindy must have made 
’em. She’s smart enough to keep their heads 
above water if she only had a chance.” 

“ Why, what’s the matter with Job } ” cried Sar’ 
Abby, running out. She had meant to ask him 
once more if he wouldn’t tell her all he knew about 
the charge against Freedom; she had meant to 
take the risk that he would again shake his head 
in that melancholy way which suggested that he 
did not wish to give her the painful truth. But 
at the sight of his pallid face the intention gave 
place to pure pity. For big, brawny Job was lean- 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


85 


ing back stiffly among his evergreens, and the reins 
had fallen and were dragging about the old horse’s 
legs. 

“ I’ve got one of them ’ere numb spells ! ” he 
groaned. “ I felt it a-comin’, but Hannah kept 
a-harryin’ me to go. And there was Clorindy ; 
seems’s if I couldn’t bear to have Clorindy disap- 
p’inted about the typewriter. I was goin’ to get 
her one on instalments. Lawyer Blade was goin’ 
to let her hev some copyin’ to do. She learnt 
how to write on it of Victory Green — her that 
was down here from Boston last summer. And 
’twas a chance for Clorindy.” 

Oh, well, don’t give up. Job. Mebbe you’ll be 
all right soon,” said grandma. 

‘‘No, it’s one of my spells. I aint got no luck, 
and we never had such a chance before. And now 
the trees and wreaths might’s well be pitched out 
into the road.” 

They led him into the house and let him lie oh 
the old sofa. Grandma prepared a hot drink, and 
Aunt Cordelia a mustard-plaster, while Sar’ Abby, 
with a great pity for Clorinda in her heart, hurried 
away to bring old Doctor Bouncer. While she ran 
she made up her mind that Clorinda must have 
that typewriter. Sar’ Abby knew Clorinda Wink- 
ley well, for though too lame and delicate to attend 
school regularly, Clorinda sometimes got above 
Sar’ Abby in arithmetic 


86 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“You won’t be able to get over the four miles 
back home before night,” said the doctor, when he 
had examined Job’s condition. 

“Oh, it’s too bad!” Job fairly wept. “I’ll 
be too late for the Christmas fixin’s, and poor Clo- 
rindy can’t get that machine.” 

“ Yes, she can, she shall I ” struck in Sar’ Abby. 
“ I’ll drive the sled over to Gobang, and sell your 
Christmas things.” 

“ Sar’ Abby Pettigrew I Aren’t you ashamed to 
think of such a thing } ” cried Aunt Cordelia. 

“No, I’m not! I’d be ashamed not to,” said 
Sar’ Abby stoutly. 

“You’d ought to have been a boy!” cried her 
aunt. 

“ I wish I was for one day, or that Freedom was 
here ! He’d sell ’em for you. Job.” 

“ Oh, I couldn’t hev him — nor I can’t let you. 
It’d be too much,” groaned Job, looking down dis- 
mally. 

“But I’m going,” insisted Sar’ Abby. “Why 
would it be too much } What do you mean ” 

“Well, a gal sellin’ Christmas-trees might look 
kind of oncommon. But you’d sell ’em,” said Job, 
with a changed air. 

“You just go, Sar’ Abby,” whispered grandma. 
“ They’re dreadful poor, and it’s Christmas time.” 

Sar’ Abby did go. She went in her old fitch- 
fur cape, and a pair of red mittens like Freedom’s, 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


87 


which granny had secretly knitted, and now sud- 
denly produced. She went with charity in her 
heart, and the flush of young enterprise in her 
cheeks, and sitting among the greenery, she was 
as pretty a picture as Gobang saw that day. 

So thought Sol Winkley when he came across 
from Bilberry that afternoon, went to Gobang’s 
market-place to buy some “ fixin’s for Christmas,” 
and suddenly saw Sar’ Abby among the trees and 
wreaths. Alas ! almost nobody had bought from 
her, for Job’s fit of energy had come after Gobang 
had nearly satisfied its demand for greenery. 

“ Why, Sar’ Abby Pettigrew ! Have you gone 
into business ? ” laughed Sol. 

O Sol, I wish you’d help me, for you under- 
stand selling goods. I’m sure. I don’t. Folks don’t 
seem to want much of anything from me.” 

‘‘Well, folks don’t show much taste,” said Sol 
gallantly. “Why, of course I’ll try to help you. 
But I guess it’s too late for big sales. Say, why 
didn’t you come two days ago } ” 

“Why, you don’t suppose I’d have waited till 
now .? These aren’t our things. They are your 
Cousin Job’s.” And then Sar’ Abby explained. 

Sol’s brow darkened, and he got down from his 
seat beside the girl. 

“ No,” he said. “ I’m not going to do anything 
for Job Winkley. He and I don’t train in com- 
pany. To think of his letting you work for him ! 


88 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


You ! He’d ought to be ashamed of himself worse 
than ever/’ 

Why, the poor man is sick, Sol.” 

“ I don’t care — he ought to have died before 
he’d let Freedom Pettigrew’s sister give him 
charity.” 

“Why, what do you mean, Sol, bringing in Free- 
dom in that way V 

“ Oh, I daren’t say — I daren’t.” Sol walked 
away a few steps. But his indignation mastered 
the cool Yankee boy, and he turned back suddenly 
with a low cry. 

“ I will tell you, Sar’ Abby,” he said furiously. 
But he retained his caution so firmly that he came 
to the seat beside her, and whispered, lest passers- 
by should hear, “ PYeedom never stole that money, 
Sar’ Abby ! ” 

“ Of course he didn’t, Sol. But who did ? ” 

“ Ask Job straight if he did 1 ” 

“Job!” 

“Mind, I can’t prove it. But I’m sure Freedom 
didn’t, and Job was the only one except him that 
could. Mind, I only suspect him. I’ve done so 
this long time, but I’ve got to be careful. But yoa 
put it right to him that you’ve heard he did, Sar’ 
Abby, and you’ll see.” 

“ O poor Clorindy I ” said Sar’ Abby. 

“ O poor Sar’ Abby and poor Freedom — that’s 
what I say ! ” snapped Sol. “ You just drive the 



SAR’ ABBY’S CHRISTMAS LOAD. 

“ Sitting among the greenery, she was as pretty a picture as Gobang 

saw that day.” 





THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


89 


Stuff right back, and face that mean cousin of mine 
with accusing words — that’s my advice, and that’s 
all I’ll say, and don’t you ever tell I gave you the 
word.” 

Then Sol, his fit of moral indignation past, stalked 
away with a sense that he had been extremely rash. 

The girl among the Christmas greenery sat so 
still and pale that passers-by thought she was in 
deep grief over her failure to dispose of her load. 
A few of the more pitiful who stopped to look at 
her stock, perhaps buy from her, could scarcely 
rouse her from her reverie. 

She was seeing a vision of Freedom as grandma 
saw him, happy and prosperous and trusted, and 
busy in the great store. With that was the vision 
of Freedom as Sol had seen him — accused, half- 
starved, ragged, in Cat Alley, among the boot- 
blacks. Tears came fast into Sar’ Abbey’s eyes. 

Poor grandma ! thought the girl, and had a mo- 
ment of wild hate for Job as her vision changed to 
the gentle old woman mixing the hot drink for the 
criminal and the false witness against Freedom. 
But grandma had so instilled tenderness into the 
girl’s heart that soon a deep pity for Clorinda, and 
divine forgiveness for Job, filled her soul. It was 
with the exultation of victory that she drove out 
of the crowd, determined to undertake the task 
from which her timidity had shrunk in the early 
day. 


90 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“I will go up the hill to where the rich people’s 
houses are,” said Sar’ Abby’s resolution, “ and try 
to sell these things from door to door. That’s 
what grandma would wish,” and her triumph found 
Christmas words, and she clearly sang, though no- 
body could have heard it a yard away : — 

Glad tidings of great jo-oy I bring 
To you-ou-ou and a-all mankind. 

Job Winkley was at the toll-house door that 
evening as Sar’ Abby came over the bridge with 
a third of the greenery still unsold. He looked 
limp, dejected, but not more ill than was his wont. 

How are you now. Job ” asked the girl. 

‘‘ I’ve pulled through this spell, but I might as 
well not,” he said. “You couldn’t sell ’em all, 
eh } How much did you get, Sar’ Abby } ” 

She told him. 

“ Oh, well,” he said, “ there ain’t enough to go 
round, and poor Clorindy can’t have that type- 
writer. Everybody can have luck but us.” 

Sar’ Abby, unthanked, silently got out of the 
sled and went into the toll-house. 

“ Squire Bagley’s come home,” cried grandma. 
“ He’s just went by in his big Russian sleigh with 
plumes a-noddin’ so pretty. I didn’t know but 
what he had Freedom along with him. But 
Freedom will be home Christmas, wont he, Sar’ 
Abby ” 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


91 


“ He ought to, grandma,” said the girl. 

‘‘She -had gone to the little drawer where the 
toll-money was kept. From this she took what 
she calculated could be spared, and went out to 
Job. 

“ You can put that with what the wreaths 
brought,” she said, “and it will be enough for the 
typewriter, wont it. Job ? It’s a little present for 
Clorinda.” 

She could not bear to look at him, nor could he 
look at her. He put away her hand with the 
money, then changed his mind, took it with a 
choking sound in his throat, got upon his sled, and 
drove away toward home. 

“He never so much as thanked you,” said Aunt 
Cordelia. “But that’s always the way. If you 
stoop to objects beneath you, you’ll always get your 
come-uppance.” 

“ I guess he was thankful enough,” said Sar’ 
Abby. “ But he couldn’t tell.” 

Not very long after this Job Winkley’s old horse 
may have wondered why he was stopped at the 
entrance to the long avenue leading up to Squire 
Bagley’s mansion. The house was all aglow with 
Christmas lights. The illumination abashed Job. 
He sat on his sled irresolute, and gazed at the 
flood of light with dim, lack-lustre eyes. The 
horse waited for his decision. 

“ ’Tain’t no time, Christmas time ain’t,” he mut- 


92 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


tered. “And Freedom will come out all right. 
What good if I did Only hurt me — and I never 
had a chance.” 

The old horse obeyed a jerk of the reins and 
started on. But he was stopped again, and turned 
and driven quickly up the avenue. 

“ I felt as if a strong hand was drorin’ me on,” 
Job afterward confided to his wife. 

But what had drawn him on was only the small 
hand in a red mitten that had lain a moment in 
his, after slipping into it the money for the first 
instalment on Clorinda’s typewriter. 

Squire Bagley’s “ great Russian sleigh, with 
plumes a-noddin’,” delighted grandma hugely by 
stopping at the toll-house early next morning and 
discharging there the squire, who looked much 
moved, and blew his nose emphatically and often. 

“ I’ve telegraphed Matchell to hunt up Freedom, 
rig him out in good shape, and send him straight 
home for Christmas,” he said. “ I never felt so 
mean about anything in my business life as judg- 
ing that boy wrongfully. All we can do now is 
make it up to him. He shall have his salary from 
the day he left, and a place in the store where 
he’ll not be overlooked in promotion. You must 
all try and forgive me, for the circumstances de- 
ceived me terribly, and that scoundrel Job lied. 

“ But please don’t punish Job,” pleaded Sar’ 
Abby. 


THE CHRISTMAS TOLL. 


93 


“ Well, no, I don’t mean to. His wife and daugh- 
ter must be considered — and besides, he confessed 
— and at any rate he’s not long for this world.” 

Grandma did not at all understand what had hap- 
pened except that the squire was bringing Free- 
dom home in state, because he thought more of 
him than even she had supposed. But happy 
tears ran down her soft old cheeks. 

‘‘ No matter what you say, Cordely,” she said, 
while they watched for him, we’ve got to have 
a Christmas turkey for Freedom.” 

So they did, and a party too ; and it was the 
merriest Christmas party in all Bilberry. At din- 
ner Freedom stood up to ask the blessing, very 
erect and tall, and wofully thin, but with a proud 
flush on his cheeks as became a boy who had not 
flinched through a sore trial, and whose sister had 
always believed in him. 

After dinner grandma and Gran’ther Petherick 
from the poor-house sang delightful and funny 
songs of long ago. And it was late, late in the 
evening, when Sar’ Abby said they would all be 
able to go to sleep with a “ real Christmassy feel- 
ing ” if they joined in the song : — 

While shepherds watched their flocks by night. 

All seated on the ground. 

The angel of the Lord came down. 

And glo-o-ory sho-one around ! 


94 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE WHITE turkey’s WING : A PIPPIN-HILL STORY. 

HERE were going to be delightful times at 



JL the Judd Farm on Pippin Hill. Mary Ellen 
was coming home from her school-teaching at the 
Falls, and Nahum from ’tending in Blodgett’s store 
at Edom Four Corners, and Uncl^ and Aunt Piper 
with Mirandy and Augustus and the twins were 
coming from Juniper Hill, and there was every 
prospect of as merry a Thanksgiving as one could 
wish to see. And Thanksgivings were always 
merry at the Judd farm on Pippin Hill. Uncle 
Ichabod might be a trifle over-thrifty, — a leetle 
nigh, his neighbors called him, — but there was no 
stinting at Thanksgiving ; and when a boy is ac- 
customed to perpetual corn bread and sausages, 
he knows how to appreciate unlimited turkey and 
plum-pudding ; and when he is used to gloomy 
evenings, in which Uncle Ichabod holds the one 
feeble kerosene lamp between himself and a news- 
paper, and Aunt Drusilla knits in silent meditation 
on blue-yarn stockings, he knows how good it is to 
have the house filled with lights and people, jolly 


THE WHITE TURKEY WING. 


95 


games going on in the parlor, and candy-pulling in 
the kitchen. All these delights were directly be- 
fore Phineas Judd, as he dangled his legs from the 
stone wall, and whittled away at the skewers which 
Clorinda, the “hired girl,” had demanded of him; 
and yet his heart was as heavy as lead. 

He did not even look up when his sister Lizy 
Ann came up the hill toward him. He knew it 
was Lizy Ann, because she was hop-skipping and 
humming ; and he knew that Aunt Drusilla had 
sent her to Mrs. Deacon Baldwin’s to get a recipe 
for snow-pudding ; she had said she “ must have 
something real stylish, because she had invited 
the new minister and his daughter to dinner.” 

“ O Phineas ! don’t you wish it was always going 
to be Thanksgiving day after to-morrow } ” Lizy 
Ann continued her hop-skipping ; she went to and 
fro before the dejected figure on the wall. Lizy 
Ann was tall, for twelve ; and she had a very high 
forehead, which made Aunt Drusilla think that she 
was going to be “ smart.” Aunt Drusilla made 
her comb her hair straight back from the high 
forehead, and fasten it with a round comb ; not 
a vestige of hair showed under Lizy Ann’s blue 
hood, and her forehead looked bleak and cold, and 
her pale blue eyes were watery, and her new teeth 
were large and overlapped each other ; but Aunt 
Drusilla said it was no matter, if she was only good 
and “ smart.” 


96 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

“Why, Phineas, is anything the matter?” Lizy 
Ann stopped, breathless, and the joy faded out of 
her face. 

Phineas continued to whittle in gloomy silence. 
His hands were almost purple with cold ; and the 
wind flapped his large pantaloons — they were 
Uncle Ichabod’s old ones, and Aunt Drusilla never 
thought it worth the while to consider the fit if 
they were turned up so that he could walk in 
them. 

“ You don’t care because the new minister and 
his daughter are coming ? ” pursued Lizy Ann. 
Phineas’s tastes, as she well knew, did not incline 
to ministers and schoolmasters as companions in 
merrymaking. “ She’s a big girl, almost sixteen, 
and she will go with Mary Ellen ; and we shall 
have Mirandy and Augustus and the twins, and 
the Treddick girls and Nick Tweedle are coming 
in the evening ; and we shall have such fun, and 
such lots to eat ! ” 

“That’s just like you. You’re friv’lous. You 
don’t know what an awful hard world it is. You 
haven’t got a realizing sense,” said Phineas crush- 
ingly. 

This last accusation was one with which Aunt 
Drusilla was accustomed to overwhelm Clorinda 
when she burned the pies or wore her best bonnet 
to evening meeting. Lizy Ann’s face grew so long 
that it looked like the reflection of a face in a 


THE WHITE TURKEY WING. 97 

spoon, and the tears came into her eyes.* It must 
be a hard world, since Phineas found it so. He 
was much stouter-hearted than she ; his round, 
snub-nosed, freckled face was generally as cheer- 
ful as the sunshine. Phineas had his troubles, — 
Lizy Ann well knew what they were, — but he bore 
them manfully. He didn’t like to have Clorinda 
use his hens’ eggs when he was saving them to 
sell ; and perhaps it was even more trying to be at 
school when the eggs-man came around, and have 
Aunt Drusilla sell his eggs, and put the money into 
her pocket. Phineas wished to go into business 
for himself, and he had a high opinion of the poul- 
try business for a beginning. Cyrus, their ** hired 
man,” had once lived with a man at North Edom 
who made fabulous sums by raising poultry. But 
Aunt Drusilla’s peculiar views of the rights of boys 
interfered with his accumulation of the necessary 
capital. All these troubles Phineas bore bravely. 
It must be some great misfortune that caused him 
to look so utterly despairing, and to accuse her of 
such dreadful things, thought poor Lizy Ann. 

Phineas took pity on her woful face. P’r’aps 
you’re not so much to blame, Lizy Ann. You 
don’t know,” he said, in a somewhat softened tone. 

It’s Aunt Drusilla.” 

Lizy Ann heaved a long, long sigh. It gene- 
rally was Aunt Drusilla. 

She’s told Cyrus to kill the — the white tur- 


98 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

key ! ” continued Phineas, with almost a break in 
his voice. 

“ To kill Priscilla ! ” gasped Lizy Ann. “ She 
couldn’t — she wouldn’t ! O Phineas ! Cyrus won’t 
do it, will he 1 ” 

Hasn’t he got to if she says so } ” demanded 
Phineas grimly. 

But Priscilla is yours,” said Lizy Ann stoutly. 

“ She says she only let me call her mine. Just 
as if I didn’t save her out of that weak brood 
when all the rest were killed by the thunder-storm ! 
And brought her up in cotton behind the kitchen 
stove, no matter how much Clorinda scolded ! And 
found her nest with thirty-one eggs in it in the old 
pine stump ! And she knows me, and follows me 
round.” 

“ I shouldn’t think Aunt Drusilla would want 
to,” said Lizy Ann reflectively. 

“ She wants a big turkey, because the minister 
and his daughter are coming to dinner ; and she 
doesn’t want to have one of the young ones killed, 
because she is too stin — ” 

“ I wouldn’t care, if I were you. After all, Pris- 
cilla is only a turkey,” said Lizy Ann, attempting 
to be cheerful. 

But this well-meant effort at consolation aroused 
Phineas’s wrath. ‘‘ That’s just like a girl ! ” he 
cried. What do you care if you only have blue 
beads and lots of candy } ” 


T^E WHITE TURKEY^S WING. 99 

Poor Lizy Ann’s face lengthened again, and her 
jaw fell. ^‘There’s my two dollars and thirty cents, 
Phineas,” she said anxiously. 

Phineas started, and a ray of hope flushed his 
freckled face. 

“We can buy a big turkey over at Jonas Hicks’s 
for all that money,” continued Lizy Ann. And 
then she drew nearer to Phineas, and added a thrill- 
ing whisper, “And we can hide Priscilla ! ” 

Phineas stared at her in amazement. He had 
never expected Lizy Ann to come to the front in 
an emergency. Perhaps the high forehead meant 
something, after all. “5-^^’ll be after you about 
the money, you know,” he said, with a significant 
nod towards the house. 

“ It’s my own. I earned it picking berries and 
weeding old Mrs. Jackman’s garden. It’s in my 
bank, and the bank won’t open till there’s five dol- 
lars in it.” 

Phineas’s face darkened. 

“ But we can smash it,” said Lizy Ann calmly. 

Certainly the high forehead meant something. 

Priscilla was hidden. The “ smashing” was done 
in extreme privacy behind the stone wall of the 
pasture. Cyrus was bound over to secrecy, as was 
also Jonas Hicks, who, after some haggling, sold 
them his finest turkey for two dollars and thirty 
cents. 

“ Cyrus is gettin’ real handy and accommodatin’,” 


100 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


said Clorinda the next morning, when they were 
all in the kitchen, and Phineas, ignobly arrayed in 
Clorinda’ s kitchen-belle apron, was chopping, and 
Lizy Ann was seeding raisins. I expected nothin’ 
but what I’d got to pick the white turkey, and he’s 
fetched her in all picked and drawed.” 

“ She don’t weigh quite so much as I expected,” 
said Uncle Ichabod, as he suspended the turkey 
on the hook of the old steelyards. 

Phineas and Lizy Ann slyly exchanged anxious 
glances, and Lizy Ann’s face was suffused with red, 
even to the roots of her tow-colored hair. 

Mary Ellen and Nahum came that night ; and 
bright and early on the morning of Thanksgiving 
Day came Uncle and Aunt Piper with Mirandy and 
Augustus and the twins, and the house was full 
of noise and jollity. Phineas was obliged to go to 
church in the morning with the grown people ; but 
Lizy Ann staid at home to help Clorinda, and after 
much manoeuvring she found an opportunity to 
run down to the shanty in the logging-road and 
feed the white turkey. The new minister and his 
daughter came to dinner, and Phineas and Lizy 
Ann were glad that the children had seats at the 
far end of the table. The minister’s daughter was 
sixteen, and looked very stylish ; and Aunt Drusilla 
said she was glad enough that they had the snow- 
pudding, and that she had asked Aunt Piper to 
bring her sauce-dishes. 


THE WHITE TURKEY'S WING. 


lOI 


It had begun to be very merry at the far end of 
the table, in a quiet way; for Aunt Drusillas stern 
eye wandered constantly in that direction, and 
Phineas and Lizy Ann had almost forgotten that 
there were trials and difficulties in life, when sud- 
denly Aunt Piper’s loud voice sounded across the 
table, striking terror to their souls. 

^‘You don’t say that this is the white turkey.? 
Seems kind of a pity to kill her, she was so hand- 
some. But she eats real well. Now, you mustn’t 
forget to let me take a wing home to Sabriny. 
You know you always promised her a wing for her 
hat when the white turkey was killed.” 

Sabriny was Aunt Piper’s niece, who had been 
left at home to keep house. 

Sure enough I did,” said Aunt Drusilla ; “you 
go out to the barn, Phineas, and get Cyrus to give 
you one of the white turkey’s wings ; and, Lizy 
Ann, you wrap it up nice, so it will be handy for 
your aunt to carry. Go as soon as you’ve ate your 
dinner, so’s to have it ready, for Uncle* Piper has 
got to get home before sundown.” 

“Yes’m,” answered Phineas hoarsely, without 
lifting his eyes from his plate. He could scarcely 
eat another mouthful, and Lizy Ann found it un- 
expectedly easy to obey Aunt Drusilla’s injunction 
to decline snow-pudding lest there should not be 
“ enough to go round.” 

“ What are you going to do .? ” asked Lizy Ann, 


102 


MULBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


overtaking Phineas as he walked dejectedly through 
the woodshed, as soon as dinner was over. 

I don’t know ; run away and be a cowboy like 
Hiram Trickey, I guess.” 

Lizy Ann’s heart gave a throb. Hiram Trickey 
had sent home a photograph, which showed him to 
have become like the picture of a pirate in Cyrus’s 
old book, with pistols and a dirk at his belt. 

“Phineas, the new minister’s daughter has got 
a white gull’s wing on her hat, and it’s up in the 
spare chamber on the bed ; and I don’t think Sa- 
briny would ever know the difference.” 

Phineas stared in wild-eyed, speechless wonder. 
Lizy Ann had never shown herself a leading spirit 
before. 

“ It will be dark before the minister’s daughter 
goes, and there’s a veil over the hat ; and if we put 
a little something white on it. I’m sure she won’t 
notice. And when she does notice she won’t know 
what became of it. And we can save up and buy 
her another gull’s wing.” 

“ Sabriny ’ll know,” said Phineas, but there was 
an accent of hope in his voice. 

“ They don’t have turkeys, and they know that 
Priscilla wasn’t a common turkey ; perhaps they 
won’t know the difference,” said Lizy Ann. “ Any- 
way, it will give us time to get Priscilla out of the 
way. If Aunt Drusilla finds out, she will have her 
killed right away.” 


THE WHITE TURKEY'S WING. IO3 

“You go and get the wing off the minister’s 
daughter’s hat, Lizy Ann,” directed Phineas firmly. 

Lizy Ann worked with trembling fingers in the 
chilly seclusion of the spare chamber, but she made 
a neat package. And she stuck on to the hat, in 
place of the wing, some feathers from the white 
rooster. 

There was an awful moment as Uncle and Aunt 
Piper were leaving. 

“Just let me see whether he’s got a real hand- 
some wing,” said Aunt Drusilla, taking the pack- 
age which Lizy Ann had put into Aunt Piper’s 
hand. 

“ Malachi is in considerable of a hurry, and 
they’ve done it up so nice,” said Aunt Piper. 
“ There ! I ’most forgot my sauce-dishes, and Sa- 
briny’s going to have company to-morrow ! ” 

Lizy Ann drew a long breath of relief as the 
carriage disappeared down the lane, and Phineas 
privately confided to her his opinion that she was 
“an or fie smart girl.” 

There was another dreadful moment when the 
minister’s daughter went home. They had played 
games until a very late hour, for Bilberry, and she 
dressed so hurriedly that she did not observe that 
anything had happened to her hat ; but as she went 
down the garden walk Phineas and Lizy Ann saw 
in the moonlight the rooster’s feathers blowing 
from it. 


104 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


The next morning, in the privacy afforded by 
the great woodpile, to which Phineas had gone to 
chop his daily stint, the children debated the ad- 
visability of committing the white turkey to the 
care of Lot Rankin, who lived with his widowed 
mother on the edge of the woods. 

‘‘It’s hard to get a chance to feed her,” said 
Phineas, “and she may squawk.” 

“ Lot Rankin may tell,” suggested Lizy Ann. 
And she heaved a great sigh. Conspiracy came 
hard to Lizy Ann. 

Just then the voice of the new minister’s daugh- 
ter came to their ears. She was talking with Aunt 
Drusilla on the other side of the woodpile. 

•‘ There was a high wind last night when I went 
home, and I suppose it blew away. I am very 
sorry to lose it, because it was so pretty, and it 
was a present too,” she said. 

“ Maybe the children have found it ; they are 
round everywhere,” said Aunt Drusilla. And then 
she called shrilly to Phineas. 

Lizy Ann shrank down in a little heap behind 
a huge log as Phineas stepped bravely out from 
behind the woodpile, and answered promptly that 
he had not seen the gull’s wing. That was lite- 
rally true ; but how she was going to answer, Lizy 
Ann did not know. 

It was so great a relief that tears sprang to Lizy 
Ann’s eyes when, after a little more conversation, 



THE minister’s DAUGHTER’S HAT. 

“ Lizy Ann worked with trembling fingers in the chilly seclusion of 

the spare chamber.” 


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THE WHITE TURKEY'S WING. I05 

the minister’s daughter went away. Aunt Drusilla 
had taken it for granted that, as she remarked, “ If 
one of them young ones didn’t know anything 
about it, the other didn’t.” 

Lizy Ann felt her burden of guilt to be greater 
than she could bear. And there was no way in 
which she could earn money to buy the minister’s 
daughter a new feather until berries were ripe and 
the weeds grew in old Mrs. Jackman’s garden. 
Lizy Ann racked her brains to think of something 
she could give the minister’s daughter to ease her 
troubled conscience. There was her Bunker Hill 
Monument, made of shells, her most precious treas- 
ure ; she would gladly have parted with even that, 
but it stood upon the table in the parlor, and Aunt 
Drusilla would discover so soon that it was gone. 
And Aunt Drusilla was quite capable of asking the 
minister’s daughter to return it. Lizy Ann felt, 
despairingly, that this atonement was impossible. 

But suddenly a bright idea struck her. The 
feather on her summer Sunday hat ! It was blue 
— it had been white originally, but Aunt Drusilla 
had thriftily had it dyed when it became soiled. 
Blue would be very becoming to the minister’s 
daughter, and perhaps she would like it as well as 
her gull’s wing. There was another sly visit to 
the chilly spare chamber. Lizy Ann took the sum- 
mer Sunday hat from its bandbox in the closet, 
and carefully abstracted the blue feather. It was 


io6 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


slightly faded, and there were some traces of the 
wetting it had received in a thunder-storm in spite 
of the handkerchief which Aunt Drusilla carefully 
pinned over it ; but Lizy Ann thought it still a very 
beautiful feather. She put it into a little paste- 
board box, wrote the minister’s daughter’s name on 
it, placed it on her doorstep at dusk, rang the bell, 
and ran away. 

It was nearly a week before she could find this 
opportunity to present the feather, for Aunt Dru- 
silla didn’t allow her to go out after dark ; and in 
all that time they had not been able to negotiate 
with Lot Rankin, for Lot had the mumps on both 
sides at once, and could not be seen. But the 
very next day after the minister’s daughter re- 
ceived her feather, — as if things were all coming 
right, thought Lizy Ann hopefully, — Uncle Icha- 
bod sent her down to Lot Rankin’s to find out 
when he would be strong enough to help Cyrus 
in the logging-camp ; and Phineas gave her many 
charges concerning the contract she was to make 
with Lot. But as she was going out of the house, 
there stood the minister’s daughter in the doorway, 
talking with Aunt Drusilla. 

I shouldn’t have known where it came from if 
Miss Plympton, the milliner, hadn’t happened to 
come in,” the young girl was saying. “ She said 
at once, * It’s Lizy Ann Judd’s feather. I had it 
dyed for her last summer, and there’s the little tag 


THE WHITE TURKEY WING. 


107 


from the dye-house on it now.’ I can’t think why 
she sent it to me.” 

Aunt Drusilla turned to the shrinking figure 
behind her, holding the blue feather accusingly in 
her hand. 

“ Lizy Ann Judd, what does this mean.^^” she 
demanded sternly. 

“I — I — she felt so bad about her gull’s wing, 
and — and ” — A rising sob fairly choked Lizy 
Ann. 

Please don’t scold her. I’m sure she can ex- 
plain,” pleaded the minister’s daughter. 

“It’s my duty to find out just what this means,” 
said Aunt Drusilla severely. “ I never heard of a 
child doin’ such a high-handed thing ! You can do 
your errand now, because your uncle wants you 
to ; but when you come back I shall have a settle- 
ment with you.” 

Poor Lizy Ann ! She ran fast, never looking 
back, although the minister’s daughter called to 
her in kindliest tones. 

There was no hope of keeping a secret from 
Aunt Drusilla when once she had discovered that 
there was one. The only chance of saving Pris- 
cilla’s life lay in persuading Lot Rankin to care 
for and conceal her. 

But, alas ! she found that Lot was not to be per- 
suaded. He was going into the woods to work, 
and his mother was “ set against turkeys.” More- 


I08 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

over, she was “ so lonesome most of the time that 
when folks did come along, she told ’em all she 
knew.” 

Phineas, who had been very anxious, met her at 
the corner. Perhaps it was not to be wondered 
at that Phineas was somewhat cross and unreason- 
able. He said only a girl would be so foolish as 
to send that feather to the minister’s daughter. 
Girls were all silly, even those who had high fore- 
heads, and he would never trust one again. He 
hoped she was going to have sense enough not to 
tell, no matter what Aunt Drusilla did. 

Poor Lizy Ann felt herself to be quite unequal to 
resisting Aunt Drusilla ; but she swallowed a lump 
in her throat, and said, firmly, that she would try 
to have sense enough. 

As they passed the blacksmith’s shop, ’Liphlet, 
Uncle Piper’s man, called out to them : “ Mebbe I 
shan’t have time to go up to your house. The 
blacksmith is sick, so I had to come over here to 
get the mare shod, and I wish you’d tell your aunt 
that Sabriny says ’twa’n’t no turkey’s wing that 
she sent her ; ’twas some kind of a sea-bird’s wing, 
and it come off of somebody’s bunnit, and she’s 
a-goin’ to fetch it back ! ” 

Lizy Ann and Phineas answered not a word, but 
they looked at each other despairingly. 

“We should have been found out anyway,” said 
Lizy Ann. 


THE WHITE TURKEY'S WING. 


109 


Her pitifully white face seemed to touch Phin- 
eas, and arouse a spark of manly courage in his 
bosom. 

ril stand by you, Lizy Ann, feather and all. 
You can’t help being a girl,” he said, magnani- 
mously. “And I won’t run away to be a cowboy, 
like Hiram Trickey.” 

Lizy Ann gave him a little grateful glance, but 
she could not speak. It did not seem so dreadful 
now about Hiram Trickey. She wished that a 
girl could run away to be a cowboy. 

As they slowly and dejectedly drew near the 
house they saw a horse and a farm wagon at the 
door ; and through the window they discovered that 
Uncle Ichabod and Aunt Drusilla, Clorinda, and Cy- 
rus were all in the kitchen. There was a visitor. 
Here was, at least, a slight reprieve. They went 
around through the woodshed ; it seemed advisable 
to approach Aunt Drusilla with caution, even in the 
presence of a visitor. 

“ Well, I must say I’m consid’able disappointed,” 
the visitor was saying, as they softly opened the 
door. He was a bluff, burly man, who sat with 
his tall whip between his knees. “ I ought to ’a’ 
stopped when I see her out there top of the stone 
wall the last time I come by — the handsomest 
turkey cretur I ever did see, and I’ve been in the 
poultry business this twenty years. I knew in a 
minute she belonged to that breed that old Mis’ 


I lO 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Joskins had ; she fetched ’em from York State. 
She moved away before I knew it, and carried ’em 
all with her.” 

“ I bought some eggs of her, and ’most all of 
’em hatched, but that white turkey was the only 
one that lived,” said Aunt Drusilla. “ I declare if 
I’d known she was anything mor’n common, and 
worthy of havin’ her picture in a book” — 

“You’d ought to have known it, Drusilla!” said 
Uncle Ichabod testily. “ I wa’n’t for havin’ her 
killed, and you’d ought to have heard to me!” 

“ I was calc’latin’ to hev her picter right in the 
front of my new poultry-book,” continued the vis- 
itor, whom the children how recognized as the dis- 
tinguished poultry-dealer of North Edom for whom 
Cyrus had once worked. “ And I was goin’ to have 
printed under it, ^Frorn the farm of Ichabod Judd, 
Esq., Bilberry.’ Be kind of a boom for you ’n’ 
Bilberry too — see.? And if you didn’t want to 
sell her right out, I was calc’latin’ to make you a 
handsome offer for all the eggs she laid.” 

“ There ! Now you see what you have done, 
Drusilla! I declare I wouldn’t gredge givin’ a 
twenty-dollar bill to get that white turkey back ! ” 
exclaimed Uncle Ichabod. 

“ Oh, O Uncle Ichabod ! ” Lizy Ann broke away 
from Phineas, who would have held her back, not 
feeling sure that it was quite time to speak, and 
rushed into the room. 


THE WHITE TURKEY WING. Ill 

“You needn’t give twenty dollars! Priscilla is 
down in the little shanty in the logging-wood I We 
saved her — Phineas and I — ^ and we bought a tur- 
key of Jonas Hicks instead. I paid with my own 
money, Aunt Drusilla I And then I — I took the 
gull’s wing off the minister’s daughter’s hat to send 
to Sabriny, and — and so that’s why I sent her the 
blue feather, and — and Sabriny’s going to send the 
gull’s wing back — ” 

“ Phineas, you go and fetch that turkey home I ” 
said Uncle Ichabod. “And, Drusilla, don’t you 
blame them children one mite I ” 

“I — I never heard of such high-handed doin’s 1 ” 
gasped Aunt Drusilla. 

“ I expect I shall have to send you children each 
a copy of my book with the picter of that turkey 
in it,” said the poultry-dealer. “And maybe the 
boy and I can make kind of a contract about eggs, 
and chickeffs.” 

The minister’s daughter wore her gull’s wing to 
church the next Sunday, and she privately confided 
to Lizy Ann that she “ didn’t blame her one bit.” 
Aunt Drusilla looked at Lizy Ann somewhat se- 
verely for several days ; but only as she looked at 
her when she turned around in church or fidgeted 
in the long prayer. And after the poultry-book 
came out with Priscilla’s photograph as a frontis- 
piece, and people began to make pilgrimages to the 
Pippin Hill farm to see the poultry, she was heard 


I 12 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


to say several times that “ it was wonderful to 
see how a smart boy like Phineas could make tur- 
key-raising pay,” and that “as for Lizy Ann, she 
always knew that high forehead of hers wasn’t for 
nothing.” 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN-. 


II3 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN PIPPIN HILL AND PHINEAS 

AND LIZY ANN AGAIN. 


NCLE ICHABOD and Aunt DrusiLa meant 



LJ to be kind to young Phineas and little Lizy 
Ann when they came, forlorn orphans, to the farm 
on Pippin Hill ; but Phineas found that they had 
many opinions with which he could not agree. They 
thought a boy ought to save up for a suit of clothes 
instead of a bicycle, and put his Fourth of July 
money into the contribution box. They thought 
that having fun was a waste of time, and that a 
boy should prefer hoeing potatoes to going fishing. 

Aunt Drusilla wouldn’t allow Lizy Ann to go out 
to play until she had sewed or knit a “ stent ; ” and 
she combed the little girl’s tow-colored hair back 
from her high forehead so tightly that it seemed 
to keep her eyes wide open, and braided it in two 
tight little tails behind, and Lizy Ann cried beeause 
the girls said she was not fashionable. 

Young Phineas lay awake nights and planned to 
run away; but, after all, home is home, and the 
world is cold and wide. 


I 14 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

What you want to do is to get your own way 
without letting them know it,” said Pitticus Pringle. 

Pitticus was a tall boy with a sharp nose, and a 
pair of little sharp eyes that looked persistently at 
the nose. It was the general opinion on Pippin 
Hill that Pitticus was “too smart;” but Phineas 
thought this idea of his might be valuable. He 
remembered it when, in October, there was a great 
Jack-o’-lantern procession on the hill, and Uncle 
Ichabod wouldn’t let him have a pumpkin to make 
a Jack-o’-lantern of. Cyrus, the hired man, did at 
last find a little one that had a speck in it, and 
Uncle Ichabod said he might have it ; but who 
wanted to parade with a lantern like that } 

It happened on the night of the procession that 
Uncle Ichabod and Aunt Drusilla had gone over 
to Canterbury Four Corners to spend the night, 
and Cyrus went down to the Bend to see his girl, 
and Clorinda, the hired girl, went to bed with the 
neuralgia. 

Phineas took Cyrus’s lantern and went out to 
the squash-house, and there by itself on a shelf 
in the corner was the great pumpkin that had taken 
the first prize at the State Agricultural Fair. 

Phineas’s pocket-knife was sharp — it seems as 
if knives were sure to be when one is getting into 
mischief with them — and the work was soon done ; 
the top cut off the pumpkin, — if Clorinda’s glue 
was all that she recommended it to be, that could be 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN. 


II5 

fastened on so that one could still take the pump- 
kin up by the stem, — the inside scraped out, and 
delightfully effective features cut out in the great 
yellow face. When the candle was placed inside, 
there was a Jack-o’-lantern indeed ! 

A great shout greeted it when Phineas joined 
the Pippin Hill company ; but he was able to hush 
it quickly, for the boys were friends of his and 
understood. He was a little afraid of Billy Bost- 
wick, who was considered envious, and who told 
everything to his sister Maud, who was Lizy Ann’s 
friend. But a boy must expect to run some risks, 
as Pitticus Pringle said. (Pitticus was at home, af- 
flicted with mumps on both sides at once ; Phineas 
thought mumps was the only thing that had ever 
been able to take an unfair advantage of Pitticus 
Pringle.) 

When the Pippin Hill company joined the pro- 
cession in the town the great lantern was not so 
conspicuous : but it still attracted much attention, 
and Phineas was very proud. But he had not been 
able to fasten it upon a pole, as most of the other 
boys had done with theirs, and it was very bulky 
and hard to carry ; and he was obliged to run home 
before the other boys to glue the pumpkin to its 
original shape before Cyrus should return. 

It was a difficult task to fit the pieces exactly, 
especially when one was in a hurry ; and then Phin- 
eas was obliged to fill the hollow pumpkin with 


Il6 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

bran and meal, lest its lightness should betray the 
ruin it had suffered. But the work was done at 
last ; and on the shelf, at least, no one would have 
suspected that it was not the solid pumpkin that 
had won a prize at the fair. 

At the school recess the next day Maud Bost- 
wick whispered something in Lizy Ann’s ear, which 
caused Phineas’s young sister to turn red and white 
and almost to burst into tears. And in the after- 
noon Lizy Ann carried to school her blue bead 
necklace that grandma had given her, and gave it 
to Maud. (Aunt Drusilla thought little of neck- 
laces, and probably would not even miss it.) Maud 
had great influence over her brother Billy, and 
could keep him from telling things. 

At the very first opportunity she could find, 
when no one was looking, Lizy Ann went out to 
the squash-house. When she saw the prize pump- 
kin on the shelf she uttered a little cry of joyful 
surprise, and felt an impulse to run across the field 
at once and demand the return of her necklace. 
But Lizy Ann had a prudent mind, and she de- 
cided to investigate farther. So she climbed up 
and felt all over the pumpkin. To her soft little 
fingers the lines that marked where the Jack-o’- 
lantern’s eyes and nose and mouth had been were 
plainly to be felt. Lizy Ann prayed tearfully that 
night that Phineas might repent, but not be found 
out. 



PHINEAS AND THE PUMPKIN. 


“ There, by itself, on a shelf in the corner of the squash-house, was the 

great pumpkin,” 







THE PRIZE PUMPKIN. 


II7 


Lizy Ann blushed painfully whenever pumpkins 
were mentioned ; but Phineas — as nothing hap- 
pened, Phineas was forgetting. 

The day before Thanksgiving Uncle Ichabod 
came home with a letter from Aunt Lucetta. She 
was the children’s youngest aunt, and lived in Bos- 
ton. She had taught in the high school in Plum- 
field, and had married the master of the school, 
and he was now a thriving young lawyer in the 
city. Uncle Ichabod and Aunt Drusilla had vis- 
ited them once, and brought home wonderful ac- 
counts of the flat in which they lived, where the 
bookcase was a bed and the armchair a table, and 
everything turned into something else in the most 
fascinating manner. It was the dream of the chil- 
dren’s lives to visit that wonderful place. 

Aunt Lucetta’s letter was an invitation to spend 
Thanksgiving with her in Boston. 

Phineas thrilled with hope and fear ; and Lizy 
Ann gazed breathlessly at Aunt Drusilla, her mouth 
a round O. 

Aunt Drusilla shook her head ; she was so apt to 
shake her head at delightful things. That’s just 
like Lucetty,” she said. “ She don’t stop to think 
that there ain’t room for us all to turn round in 
that flat. But I should kind of like to have the 
children go, if we could manage it ; ’twould be 
something so new to ’em.” Aunt Drusilla was 


Il8 BILBERRY BOYS AJVD GIRLS. 

kind like that sometimes, when one least expected 
it. Besides, it always seems kind of an imposi- 
tion to carry ’em over to Hiram’s, where there’s 
so many young ones a’ ready.” 

I was calc’latin’,” said Uncle Ichabod, with pro- 
voking slowness — “I was calc’latin’ that it might 
be worth the while to send Cyrus down to the city 
with a wagon-load of stuff — some of them tur- 
keys are uncommon handsome — and the children 
could ride down ’long of him.” 

Lizy Ann fairly gasped with delight. Dreams 
were coming true, as if one lived in a fairy-book. 
Phineas’s heart swelled as if it would burst his 
jacket, though he wore outwardly as calm an air 
— to impress Lizy Ann — as if he were in the 
habit of going to Boston every week. 

Joyful days of preparation followed ; joyful al- 
though they lagged, and at length came the eve of 
the exciting journey. 

They were to start at three o’clock in the morn- 
ing ; for it was eighteen miles to Boston, and Cyrus 
must be early at the market with his produce. 
The wagon was loaded the night before ; and it 
was great fun to be in the barn by the lantern- 
light, with every one helping. 

‘‘ We must send a fine large turkey to Lucetty,” 
said Aunt Drusilla. “And I shouldn’t wonder if pun- 
kins were skurce in the city, and Lucetty likes pun- 
kin-pies ; you’d better send her the prize punkin.” 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN. 


19 


I declare, I b’lieve I will ; guess ’twill astonish 
’em some ! ” said Uncle Ichabod, with a chuckle of 
proud anticipation. 

Phineas was helping Cyrus to fill a barrel with 
the finest squashes, and he dropped one out of his 
hands when Uncle Ichabod said that. As for Lizy 
Ann, the joy went out of everything as suddenly 
as it did for Cinderella when the clock struck 
twelve. 

Cyrus brought the big prize pumpkin from the 
squash-house under his arm. Phineas expected at 
every moment to see him lift it by the stem ; then 
it seemed as if everything in life would depend 
upon the strength of Clorinda’s glue. 

^‘Jest slip it into that bag, Cyrus. I shouldn’t 
want it to get jammed or scratched,” said Uncle 
Ichabod. 

Cyrus slipped the pumpkin into a canvas potato- 
bag, and tucked it into the wagon. Phineas drew 
a long breath, and Lizy Ann swallowed a hard 
lump in her throat. 

Then Phineas had a bright idea ; he had heard 
Pitticus Pringle say that there never was a scrape 
without a way out of it,” and one wasn’t Pitticus 
Pringle’s friend for nothing. 

Even before the start was made in the early 
morning, — a very sleepy time, when even the de- 
lightful queerness would scarcely keep Lizy Ann’s 
eyes open, — Phineas found an opportunity, while 


120 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Cyrus was harnessing the great roan horses, Tom 
and Jerry, to slip a large squash into the bag in- 
stead of the pumpkin, which he tucked away under 
the front seat. He would have liked to leave it 
behind, but Cyrus might miss it on the way. He 
threw Lizy Ann’s shawl carelessly over it. 

“If you want your shawl, you just tell me,” said 
Phineas to her gruffly. 

It is scarcely too much to say that Lizy Ann 
would have frozen before she would have admitted 
that she wanted that shawl. 

Cyrus stopped before the Pringle farm-house 
and whistled sharply. “ I promised Llewellyn 
Pringle that I’d carry him down to Brockville,” he 
said. “ I guess we can stow him in somewheres. 
He’s got a chance to work in a big manufacturin’ 
concern down there ; they’re smart fellers, them 
Pringle boys. Llewellyn ain’t too smart like Cosy 
and Pitticus.” 

Llewellyn’s conversation enlivened the long drive, 
and diverted one’s mind from the dreadful worry 
about that pumpkin ; he was so full of excitement 
and pride about the situation that he expected to 
get in the manufactory — a better opening in life 
than often came to a Pippin Hill boy. 

It was not quite daylight when they stopped in 
Brockville, but the busy town was already astir. 
Cyrus stopped at the hotel on the main street to 
water his horses. 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN. 


I2I 


Llewellyn jumped out of the wagon, and care- 
fully lifted out the box of butter which his mother 
had sent as a Thanksgiving offering to Llewellyn’s 
prospective employer. 

“ Here, Llewellyn, you can have this too ! ” called 
Phineas, obeying a sudden impulse, and with a fur- 
tive glance towards the stable. “We — we’ve got 
a squash to carry to Aunt Lucetta.” He drew the 
prize pumpkin out from its concealment. 

Llewellyn’s eyes grew wide with wonder and de- 
light ; this would be a better propitiatory offering 
than the butter. 

Phineas kept an anxious eye on the stables as 
Llewellyn strode off, the pumpkin under one arm 
and the box of butter under the other ; he turned 
a convenient corner, and still Cyrus had not ap- 
peared. He had not missed the pumpkin ; it would 
be very likely that Phineas could now convey that 
bag unopened to Aunt Lucetta. He drew a long 
breath of relief ; but Lizy Ann’s small freckled 
face looked pitifully drawn, and her wide-open blue 
eyes were full of the horror of this deed without 
a name. 

Aunt Lucetta would write a letter of thanks for 
the Thanksgiving presents, thought Phineas ; she 
might specify the squash : then what would they 
think at Pippin Hill farm .? Why, that she didn’t 
know the difference, or that the pumpkin had ac- 
quired the peculiar power of the flat’s belongings. 


22 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


and turned into something else ! Phineas grinned 
broadly as this solution of the difficulty presented 
itself to his mind, so light-hearted had he become. 

It was even more easily managed than Phineas 
had hoped ; he jumped out of the wagon and seized 
the big squash, in its bag, before Cyrus had been 
able to induce Tom and Jerry to resign them- 
selves to the electric cars, which ran through the 
street where Aunt Lucetta lived. He and Lizy 
Ann had to take the other things, too, because 
Cyrus dared not leave the horses long enough to 
go in the elevator up to Aunt Lucetta’s fifth-story 
flat. 

A proud- elevator boy made them take all their 
rough and bulky packages to the freight lift ” in 
the back of the house ; and Phineas cherished a 
wild hope that the squash might get lost, in which 
case he decided — with only a slight pang of con- 
science, so hardened in falsehood had he already 
become — to describe it as a huge pumpkin. 

It came up safely, of course, and Aunt Lucetta 
called it “a delightful countrified squash” — as if, 
thought Phineas, she were accustomed to squashes 
that grew on pavements. He forgot all about it 
soon, in the excitement of inspecting this queer 
place to live, so far up in the sky, and so small, 
with the great city roaring around it. Even Lizy 
Ann forgot it when Aunt Lucetta really banged 
her hair, because her father-in-law and her sister- 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN. 


123 


in-law, who were very stylish, were coming to din- 
ner the next day. 

Aunt Lucetta’s father-in-law was a manufacturer 
in Brockville. Phineas did remember the pump- 
kin when he heard this, although with only a slight 
pang ; there were so many manufacturers in Brock- 
ville. But Lizy Ann had a more anxious mind ; 
she forgot even the little frills and the big sash 
and the bangs with which Aunt Lucetta had 
adorned her, and stared at Aunt Lucetta’s father- 
in-law with a fascinated dread all through the 
Thanksgiving dinner. It seemed to her that by 
this time all Brockville must be ringing with the re- 
port that the great prize pumpkin was only a hol- 
low Jack-o’-lantern. It was no comfort even to be 
fashionable when Phineas was going to be found 
out. 

When the dessert was brought on Aunt Lucet- 
ta’s father-in-law sharply eyed the squash-pies. 

“ Ought to have pumpkin-pies at Thanksgiving, 
Lucetta,” he said, with the frankness of a well- 
to-do father-in-law. Reminds me of a saucy 
trick that was played on me yesterday. There was 
a fellow from Pippin Hill who had been recom- 
mended to me as smart. I meant to give him a 
good chance. But I hate a practical joke, anyway, 
and ’twas such impertinence in a boy like him. He 
brought me a pumpkin from home — a present — 
the largest and finest pumpkin I ever saw, I said 


124 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


to my cook that we’d have some old-fashioned 
pumpkin-pies. When she put a knife into it, out 
came a lot of bran and stuff ; the pumpkin had been 
scooped out and filled up with trash. He brought a 
box of butter too ; I suppose that is tallow. We’ve 
no use for such fellows in Brockville ; they’re too 
smart.” 

Phineas choked, and had to be patted on the 
back by Aunt Lucetta ; he said he had swallowed 
something hard, he guessed it was a raisin-seed in 
the pudding. But he had sufficient presence of 
mind to scowl dreadfully at Lizy Ann, who looked 
as if she were going to cry. 

“ I just sent word to the fellow that he wouldn’t 
suit me,” continued Lucetta’s father-in-law. “ I 
didn’t say anything about his pumpkin ; I wouldn’t 
give him the satisfaction.” 

Phineas drew a long breath of relief. He said 
he thought he would take a piece of mince-pie, 
and he gave Lizy Ann a warning kick under the 
table. Llewellyn Pringle would never know why 
he had missed his great chance in life ; Aunt Lu- 
cetta would scarcely think to mention in a letter 
that she had received a squash among her Thanks- 
giving gifts. Phineas ate his mince-pie with rel- 
ish, and said to himself that he was about as smart 
a fellow as Pitticus Pringle. 

He wished that Lizy Ann would not look so 
woe-begone, and say that she didn’t care for candy 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIN. 


125 


or nuts. Being only a girl, she couidn’t under- 
stand that in this world, as Pitticus Pringle said, 
you had to get there yourself, and you couldn’t stop 
to look out for the fellow that was left behind. 

Aunt Lucetta gave a party for them that night, 
and the next day her father-in-law took them to 
the play ; but in spite of the good times and of all 
the sayings of Pitticus Pringle that he could recall, 
Phineas couldn’t get rid of the thought of Llew- 
ellyn Pringle going home, disappointed and humil- 
iated, to the old farmhouse, where they were ill 
and poor, and everything depended upon the boys. 
It was in vain that he said to himself that he was 
as silly as a girl — as silly as Lizy Ann, whose face 
looked worn, and who followed him with wistful 
eyes. 

He seized the coat-tails of Aunt Lucetta’s father- 
in-law, who was entering the elevator for his final 
departure. 

“ I can’t — stand it — anyhow ! ” he stammered. 
“ It wa’n’t Llewellyn’s fault — that scooped-out 
punkin wa’n’t — ’twas mine ! ” 

And out came the whole story, with a murmured 
accompaniment of excuses for Phineas from Lizy 
Ann. Phineas made no excuses for himself ; he 
told the story in a manly fashion, and the manu- 
facturer said, ‘‘ Well, well ; he believed he liked 
Pippin Hill boys, after all, and he would send for 
Llewellyn and give him the place, and if Phineas 


126 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


ever wanted a chance for himself, why, he liked a 
boy that would not let another suffer for what he 
had done, no- matter how hard it was to own up." 
Phineas felt as if he did not deserve any praise, 
he had come so frightfully near to not ov/ning up. 

It was happiness to stop at the Pringles’ to tell 
Llewellyn that the great chance was his — it seemed 
to fortify one for owning up to Uncle Ichabod. 

Almost before the first greetings were over, 
before Aunt Drusilla had decided whether to be 
angry about Lizy Ann’s little frills and big sash and 
bangs, which made her look like a very serious- 
minded doll, Phineas stood forth like a man, and 
told the story of his misdeeds. 

“ That prize punkin for a Jack-o’-lantern ! Well, 
I wouldn’t ’a’ believed you’d ’a’ darst to do it ! ’’ 
cried Uncle Ichabod. He was so overcome that 
he dropped heavily into his armchair. 

“ Aunt Lucetta’s father-in-law said it was the 
finest punkin he ever saw. I guess they never 
saw our punkins down to Brockville before ! ’’ piped 
Lizy Ann, with the wisdom of the serpent. 

“ I guess it did astonish ’em some ! ’’ chuckled 
Uncle Ichabod, and lost his wrath’s sharp edge in 
the chuckle. “ I ain’t goin’ to say any more about 
this, young Phineas, seein’ how it’s turned out ; but 
I’m goin’ to raise a punkin next year that’ll beat 
this year’s all hollow, and that one won’t be made 
into no Jack-o’-lantern ! ’’ 


THE PRIZE PUMPKIH. 


127 


“ I declare them children both look real peaked 
and worn out,” said Aunt Drusilla pityingly. 

Uncle Ichabod shuffled his feet uneasily. “I 
never thought you cared so much about Jack-o’- 
lanterns, young Phineas,” he said. “They’re all 
foolishness anyway. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do : 
next spring I’ll give you and Lizy Ann a punkin- 
patch of your own, and you can raise a whole pro- 
cession if you’ve a mind too.” 


128 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE BILBERRY BOY WHO LOST THE FOURTH OF 
JULY. 

ICK TWEEDLE sat astride the hen-house, 



1 M whittling. The roof of the hen-house could 
not be said to afford a comfortable seat, especially 
in the position which Nick always chose; but it 
was a retired spot, and therefore suited to medi- 
tation, and Nick’s mind was so absorbed that he 
thought little of his bodily .comfort ; besides, he 
liked to get astride the hen-house when he wanted 
to form a very brilliant plan, because it suggested 
being on a horse’s back, and gave him a sense of 
courage and freedom. 

He couldn’t be on a horse’s back, because Aunt 
Jane didn’t believe in boys riding horseback. The 
very worst thing about Aunt Jane was her scepti- 
cism ; there were so many things that she didn’t 
believe in. 

She didn’t believe in two pieces of pie. 

She didn’t believe in swapping jack-knives. 

She didn’t believe in circuses. 

She didn’t believe in dogs. 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 29 

She didn’t believe in guns. 

She didn’t believe in playing all day on Satur- 
day. 

She didn’t believe in camping out. 

She didn’t believe in playing Indian, and would 
not let Tommy be scalped. 

She didn’t believe in base-ball. 

She didn’t believe in carrying pickles and jam- 
tarts to bed. 

She didn’t believe in making a noise. 

She didn’t believe in leaving things ’round. 

She didn’t believe in red-headed boys, anyway. 

When she expressed that last sentiment, as she 
did very often, Nick found it hard not to regard 
it as personal ; for his hair was undeniably red — 
so red that people were always making unpleasant 
jokes about its being a beacon light on the top 
of Pippin Hill, and the men who lounged in the 
village store pretended to light their pipes by it. 
Perhaps Aunt Jane “didn’t mean anything,” as 
his father always assured him ; but Nick thought 
it was a little singular that it never happened to 
be light-haired boys, nor brown -haired boys, nor 
black-haired boys that she didn’t believe in. 

She didn’t believe in tearing trousers, nor being 
forgetful, either. In fact, Nick was of the opinion 
that a list of her unbeliefs would be longer than 
the catechism he had to say in Sunday-school. 

To-day Nick had planned to go fishing with 


130 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS: 


’Sander Perrigo, who was a big boy. They were 
going to Lazy Brook, where, as ’Sander declared, 
the trout were so thick and so willing to be caught 
that they would peek out and wink at you ; ” and 
Aunt Jane had commanded him to stay at home 
and weed the garden, because she didn’t believe in 
going fishing. 

And Nick had made up his mind that there were 
some things that no boy could endure. 

He had fully determined to run away. 

Just how and where to go were the subjects to 
which he was now giving his attention. Although 
he sat astride the hen-house and whittled, no bril- 
liant ideas seemed to come. 

Nick didn’t want to do anything commonplace.; 
he was convinced that he had uncommon talents. 
He had thought of running away to sea ; but three 
boys from the village had already done that, and so 
it seemed rather tame. Besides, Dick Harris, who 
had come home, darkly hinted that there was more 
hard work than fun about it, and it was a peculiar- 
ity of Nick’s that he liked fun better than hard 
work. 

Jacob, their hired man, had secured a position in 
a menagerie to educate a whale. That was an oc- 
cupation that would just suit himself, Nick thought ; 
but from inquiries that he had made he judged 
that whale educators were not in great demand. 
Not everybody was as lucky as Jacob — though 


the boy Who lost fourth of july. 131 

Aunt Jane thought he had better have staid on 
the farm, and said she didn’t believe in menageries 
nor whales. 

Another thing that Nick wanted was to be a 
magician, and take a cat and three kittens out of a 
hat that wouldn’t begin to hold them ; but he didn’t 
know just where to go to learn the business. His 
father could not tell him ; and as for Aunt Jane, 
she didn’t believe in magicians. 

He had thought somewhat of joining an Arctic 
exploring expedition, until he read that the provis- 
ions almost always gave out. Nick never thought 
there was much fun where there wasn’t plenty to 
eat ; and he read a list of the supplies that were 
usually taken, and found no mention of pies. After 
that he went over to Aunt Jane’s way of thinking, 
and didn’t believe in Arctic exploring expeditions. 

He had intended to invent a telephone which 
should be so superior to those already in use that, 
instead of merely transmitting the sound of voices, 
it should do the talking all by itself. But he had 
not succeeded as yet ; and it would hardly be pru- 
dent to run away from home trusting to that as a 
means of support, although, once out of Aunt Jane’s 
reach, his chance of success would be much better, 
for he had no opportunity to experiment now, be- 
cause she didn’t believe in telephones. Another 
plan that occurred to him was to ride around the 
world on a bicycle. He thought that by the time 


132 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


he got to Kamchatka he might make money by 
exhibiting himself, as it was quite probable that 
they didn’t have bicycles there ; but there was a 
difficulty in the way — it would take money to get 
as far as Kamchatka, even on a bicycle. A boy 
might possibly endure to sleep out-of-doors with 
only ambition to keep him warm, but Nick was of 
the opinion that ambition would never keep a boy 
with a big appetite from being hungry. 

It is very sad, but one has to take a practical 
view of matters, even if one is a genius, and ex- 
pects to do great things in the world; so Nick 
decided that he would not attempt the tour of the 
world on a bicycle, even if he could get a bicycle, 
which was very doubtful, as Aunt Jane didn’t be- 
lieve in them. 

Walking on a tight-rope he regarded as an agree- 
able and elevated means of gaining a livelihood ; 
but an experiment of that kind which he had tried, 
with the rope fastened to the high beams of the 
barn, had proved so disastrous that he was forced 
to the conclusion that his talents did not lie in that 
direction. 

Going to fight Indians on the Western plains 
was another of his favorite plans, but the unpleas- 
ant habit of scalping people which the Indians in- 
dulged in so freely made him feel some hesitation. 
He might be like the “ Red-handed Rover of the 
Rocky Sierras,” whose adventures he had read, who 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 33 

always turned upon the twenty-seven uncommonly 
large Indians who were about to scalp him, and 
scalped them with their own weapons. But al- 
though he might not have acknowledged it, he had 
some doubts, -drawn from his experiences in the 
fighting line, whether his abilities were as great as 
the Red Rover’s. He reflected that he had once 
‘Hicked little Solomon Trull out of his boots,” but 
when Solomon Trull’s big brother came upon the 
scene the results,of the contest were sadly changed. 
He was as ready as anybody to stand up man to 
man ; ” but when it came to encountering twenty- 
seven uncommonly large Indians, all in war-paint, 
and brandishing tomahawks, Nick felt that he would 
rather not. 

To be a soldier had always been his greatest de- 
sire. He was very patriotic, and wanted an oppor- 
tunity to defend his country ; but as there seemed 
no prospect whatever of a war he felt almost dis- 
couraged about that. He had gotten up a sham 
fight at the last Fourth of July celebration, and with 
several other boys had become so excited as to en- 
tirely forget that it was a sham, and the result had 
been more lively than delightful. 

And Aunt Jane didn’t believe even in ten-cent 
pop-guns, nor two bunches of fire-crackers under a 
tin pan at four o’clock in the morning, nor even 
in the dinner-bell and a fish-horn, — which didn’t 
make any noise to speak of, — and she said she 


134 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


didn’t believe Nick wanted anything but to give her 
a headache. 

There really seemed to be no way of giving vent 
to patriotic feeling without being misunderstood. 

Nick concluded that it was a hard world for a 
boy; but still he didn’t think he could find anything 
harder in it than staying at home with Aunt Jane 
and her unbeliefs, and he was just resolving to go 
and be a tramp until he could raise money enough 
to buy out a tin-peddler, when Pitt Ramsey, a next- 
door neighbor, came along and called out to him 
that he had brought him a letter from the post- 
office. 

“Jehoshaphat !” exclaimed Nick. 

His list of correspondents was extremely limited. 
In fact, he had received but one letter in his life, 
and that was from Aunt Jane when she had gone 
to pay a visit, telling him that she didn’t believe 
in boys wasting money on postage stamps, so he 
needn’t write to her. There was nobody who 
would be likely to write him a letter, so it must 
come from somebody who was unlikely to ; and that 
might be the Khan of Tartary, who had written .o 
offer him the position of Grand Vizier, or Decapi- 
tator General, or whatever the highest dignitary of 
his court was called. 

After such a splendid vision it was somewhat 
disappointing to open the letter and find it was from 
their old “hired girl,” Tryphosa, who had married 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 35 

Augustus Spilkins, and moved up into the back- 
woods. Tryphosa wrote : — 

My Deer Boy., — me and augustus Wants yu to kum 
and sea us, And Stay A long Spell, we Kepe tarvern and 
hev a Plenty off Good Vittuls. not exceptin Pys. yu Kan 
take augustuses Old Muskit and Shoot the cros that is 
eatin’ up all the Corn and aint a mite Afrade off the scarcro 
though it is maid to look edzacly like augustus and yu kan 
brake in the Colt that is caliker and a romun Nose and One 
Good i and Terrerble Skitish, and yu kan help augustus maik 
Jinger Ail wich has to bee Plenty bein a temperunce hous 
and not Another Drop though soshyble. me and augustus 
alwys set by yu and we Want yu to kum sertin sure pertik- 
erly as it kant bee none two kumfurtin’ wher thare is sich 
an Onbeleiver az sum fokes that yu and i noes off. with 
Respecks yores respeckful Tryphosa. 

p. S. Kum Rite Of. 

If a visit to Tryphosa was not so delightfully ex- 
citing as the adventures which Nick had been pro- 
posing to himself, it had an advantage over them 
which was not to be disregarded in this uncertain 
world — it was a possibility. 

And there was a mild attractiveness about the 
prospect of shooting crows, and breaking in the 
calico colt, with his one eye and his skittishness. 

Besides, Nick liked Tryphosa; she knew howto 
sympathize with a boy that had an Aunt Jane ; and 
her sympathy did not take the form of hugging and 
kissing, — things which Nick could not endure, — it 
took the form of pie. If there was a person in th^ 


136 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

world who thoroughly understood the art of pie- 
making, it was Tryphosa; and she was never 
known to cut a pie into stingy little pieces. 

Augustus Spilkins was very agreeable, too, and 
had gifts that distinguished him. He could bal- 
ance a pitchfork on his eyelid, and do a trick with 
cards that the schoolmaster couldn’t find out. He 
could swallow a cent and take it out of his sleeve, 
and he could fiddle and dance so that the minis- 
ter couldn’t help listening and looking on. And, 
though he came from Nova Scotia, there never was 
a Yankee who could equal him at whittling ; he 
could whittle out a pig that could almost squeal, 
and mice that drove the cat half crazy. And he 
whittled out a dog that would wag his tail — though 
the wag did get out of order very soon. 

Tryphosa used to scold at first, because he lit- 
tered up” the kitchen; but he won her heart by 
whittling out a butter-stamp for her with two hearts, 
joined together, and a turtle-dove upon it. That 
was how they came to be married. 

Nick thought things over, and decided that there 
was sure to be fun going on where Augustus was. 

He was sure that his father would give him leave 
to accept Tryphosa’s invitation ; but Aunt Jane 
didn’t believe in boys visiting, so Nick decided to 
avoid any little unpleasantness that might possibly 
arise, by omitting to take leave of her. 

He wrapped his clothes in a gay bandana hand- 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 37 

kerchief, which was a present from Augustus, and 
hung the bundle over his shoulder, upon a stout 
stick. He had a travelling-bag, but he thought 
that gave him a less adventurous air than the bun- 
dle. As he left the gate he heard Aunt Jane’s 
voice calling him, and declaring in shrill tones that 
she didn’t believe in boys having on their best 
clothes on a week-day. Nick hurried along. He 
didn’t know how many bad people he might meet 
in the world, but Tryphosa had once solemnly as- 
sured him that he would never find another such 
an “ infiddle ” as Aunt Jane. 

He stopped at his father’s store ; but his father 
not being in, he contented himself with leaving a 
note for him, in which he explained where he was 
going, and asked him not to tell Aunt Jane. Nick’s 
father was a very easy and obliging man ; and, be- 
sides, Nick suspected that he suffered himself from 
Aunt Jane’s unbelieving disposition, and would en- 
joy keeping the secret from her. 

He felt a little sorry that he could not take 
Tommy with him. Tommy was Aunt Jane’s son, 
but he was not in the least like her. He was four 
years younger than Nick, and believed in every- 
thing Nick did. And he never was so mean as to 
^Hell on him.” How much of his reticence was 
due to the fact that Nick threatened to make fid- 
dlestrings of him if he did tell, it is impossible to 
say ; but it is probable that this terrible threat had 


138 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

a powerful effect on Tommy’s mind, as it always 
made him turn pale. 

Tommy’s most striking characteristic was a pro- 
pensity to tumble into the well ; four times he had 
been rescued dripping and senseless, and Aunt 
Jane didn’t believe that boy would be anything 
but a lifeless corpse the next time he was hooked 
out of the well.” Nick almost wished that he had 
taken Tommy with him when he thought of that 
dreadful possibility ; but he contented himself with 
going back and ad-ding a postscript to the note he 
had left in his father’s store: “Tell Tommy not 
to get drowned in the well till I come home.” 

Then Nick went on with a mind at ease. 

Augustus had appended to Tryphosa’s letter 
minute directions, so that Nick might have no dif- 
ficulty in making his way to Tantrybogus, the town 
where he and Tryphosa lived ; but he mentioned 
so many different railways and stage-routes that 
Nick was afraid his funds would not hold out until 
the end of the journey. 

He found that railroads and stage-routes came 
to an end nine miles from Tantrybogus. By the 
good nature of the driver of the last stage he was 
enabled to ride to the end of the route, although 
his money was exhausted. And he found that 
nine miles was as far as he cared to walk, but he 
reached Tantrybogus about nine o’clock. 

Tryphosa was almost overcome with surprise and 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 39 

delight ; but instead of fainting, or kissing him, she 
gave expression to her feelings by setting six kinds 
of pie before him. There was no doubt that Try- 
phosa was just as agreeable as ever. 

Augustus complimented him in a very gratifying 
manner. 

“ Well, now, I swanny, I wouldn’t have thought 
’twas you, you’ve growed so ! If I was onbeliev- 
in’ like your Aunt Jane, I should declare ’t wa’n’t 
you ! I declare you’re gettin’ to be a man so fast 
it makes me feel awk’ard to think what a little 
spell ago ’twas that I made free to call you sonny ! ” 

You may say what you will, it is pleasant to 
meet people who realize that one is getting to be 
a man, and cannot properly be called sonny.” 

The tavern ” seemed to be a very soshyble ” 
place, as Tryphosa had said ; there were many very 
pleasant and jolly people there, but it seemed to 
Nick that they looked and talked very differently 
from Bilberry people. Some of them he could 
hardly understand, and they had very odd, out- 
landish names. 

Nick came to the conclusion that very night that 
Tantrybogus was a queer place. 

' He found out the next day that it was also a 
very delightful place. There were plenty of good 
times to be had, and no school, no garden to weed, 
no Aunt Jane, and unlimited pie. 

Shooting crows was great fun. He didn’t hap- 


140 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

pen to hit any, but he hit the scarecrow and made 
a complete wreck of him. He also hit Tryphosa’s 
favorite black turkey that was roosting in a tree, 
and a neighbor’s black cat, mistaking them for 
crows. So nobody could say that he was a poor 
shot, even if he didn’t kill crows. As for the colt, 
everybody knows that a calico colt with a Roman 
nose and one good eye is very hard to break ; so it 
is not surprising that he ran away with Nick into 
the river, and might have drowned him if he had 
not been able to swim. 

Tryphosa cried over Nick because he had had 
such a hard time, and carried a whole pie to his 
bedside in the middle of the night ; and Augustus 
said he didn’t know how they had ever got along 
without him, he made things so kind o’ lively. 

All these things happened in a few days ; for it 
was less than a week after Nick’s arrival in Tan- 
trybogus that he suddenly became aware that the 
very next day would be the Fourth of July. At 
home, in Bilberry, he would have been counting 
the hours that must pass before the day came, but 
here he had found so many novel diversions that 
he had quite forgotten that it came so soon. 

In a great state of excitement he rushed to Au- 
gustus, who was bottling ginger-ale. 

“Fourth of July, to-morrow!” he shouted, “and 
not so much as a fire-cracker ready I Have you 
forgotten } ” 



NICK AT TANTRYBOGUS. 

Shooting crows was great fun. He didn’t happen to hit any, but 
he did hit the scarecrow.” 




THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. I4I 

Augustus seemed disturbed and uneasy. He 
let the corks fly out of two or three ale-bottles in 
his uncertainty of mind. Nick thought that pop- 
ping was better than nothing; it sounded a little 
like the Fourth of July. 

“You see, Tantrybogus is kind of a cur us place. 
They don’t seem to set no great store by the Fourth 
of July; and seein’ it’s Canady, and they’re mostly 
English and French, it couldn’t in nater be ex- 
pected,” said Augustus, looking sad. 

Canada ! Nick knew it was just across the line, 
and hadn’t thought of it, he had been having so 
many other things on his mind. He sat down on 
the lowest step of the cellar stairs, clasped his 
hands around his knee, and reflected. 

“I couldn’t stand it, Augustus!” he said firmly, 
at last. “ It’s all right for Tantryboguses, and for 
you, because you came from Nova Scotia ; but I 
should burst 1 ” 

Augustus scratched his head in perplexity, and 
went on letting the corks pop. 

“You might go down to Polywhappit,” said he, 
brightening suddenly. “That’s across the line, and 
it’s only a matter of ten miles from here, and I 
expect they’ll have a rousing time.” 

“ I’ll start right off I ” cried Nick, jumping up. 

“ I’ll harness up, and carry you a good piece, 
and you can walk the rest of the way ; and I’ll give 
you a five-dollar bill to do your celebratin’ with. 


142 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

Oh, you needn’t feel bad about takin’ so much, for 
I’m glad to have you go and enjoy )^ourself, and 
bein’ you’re so lively, it’s worth more’n that to me 
to have you go.” 

Afterward it struck Nick that a double meaning 
might be attached to those words of Augustus, 
but he was too eager to go to think about them 
then. 

Tryphosa took a tearful leave of him, and in- 
sisted upon putting a pie in the crown of his hat, 
where it ‘‘wouldn’t be in his way, but would be 
handy when he got hungry,” and told him to be 
sure to find her brother’s wife’s cousin, Lysander 
Hewitt, who lived in Polywhappit, and would be 
sure to welcome him for the sake of the family 
connection. 

Augustus drove him a little more than half way 
to Polywhappit, and then had to hurry back lest 
his ginger-ale should spoil. 

It was late in the afternoon when Nick reached 
Polywhappit. It was. almost as large a town as 
Bilberry ; but Nick thought it didn’t look very 
wide awake, and though he looked about him very 
sharply, he could see no signs of preparation for 
the Fourth of July. 

However, they were, unquestionably, Yankees 
in Polywhappit ; and Nick had never heard of 
Yankees who didn’t make a noise on the glori- 
ous Fourth. 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 14^ 

Grear, tnerefore, was his dismay when he learned 
from Tryphosa’s relative, Lysander Hewitt, “that 
Polywhappit didn’t calkilate to do no celebratin’. 
They had built a new town hall, and repaired a 
great many roads, and didn’t feel able to spend any 
more money. Money’s skerce in Polywhappit, and 
that’s a fact,” said Tryphosa’s relative. 

“ Do you mean to say that they won’t make any 
noise at all to-morrow.^” asked Nick, not without 
an accent of disgust. 

“ Well, Polywhappit folks seem to feel that when 
your powder is burnt up, your money’s burnt up 
too, and there ain’t no great profit in it, to say 
nothin’ of the danger of bein’ sot afire. I did hear 
that the school children over to the East Polywhap- 
pit district was every one agoin’ to recite the Decla- 
ration of Independence, and sing some of them ap- 
propriate pieces like Ameriky and Old Hundred. 
If you feel like celebratin’ I’ll carry you over there 
to-morrow mornin’.” 

Nick heaved a sigh, and thought of the grand 
times that he had been wont to enjoy at Bilberry 
on the Fourth of July. 

“ I’m afraid that wouldn’t be quite lively enough 
for me. We do things differently in Bilberry. 
We don’t value money that we spend to do honor 
to our country ! ” said Nick, with a grand air. 

His thoughts were turning wistfully to Bilberry. 
Even if he had to endure Aunt Jane and her un- 


144 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


beliefs, Bilberry was not the worst place a boy 
could live in. For there they had not lost the 
Fourth of July. There they would have a ringing 
and a banging, a rattling and a snapping, that it 
would do one’s heart good to hear. And, probably, 
at five o’clock in the afternoon a balloon would go 
up from the Common. If he were at home, Nick 
might have some chance of going up in that bal- 
loon, for the aeronaut was Aunt Jane’s brother-in- 
law’s wife’s nephew. And, at all events, he could 
go up on to the band-stand when the band was 
playing, because Aunt Jane’s sister-in-law’s second 
husband’s son played the cornet. There were ad- 
vantages as well as disadvantages about having an 
Aunt Jane. It occurred to Nick that he had never 
fully realized the advantages. He had thought too 
much about Aunt Jane’s unbeliefs and not enough 
about her desirable family connections. 

He decided to get back to Bilberry very soon — 
if possible, before that balloon went up. 

He asked Lysander Hewitt whether he thought 
he could do it by walking all night, but Lysander 
thought he would get there just as soon by taking 
the stage at five o’clock in the morning. The 
railroad station was only seven miles away, and an 
express-train connected with the stage. 

So Nick accepted Lysander Hewitt’s hospitality 
for the night ; and, being very tired, he fell asleep, 
although it was entirely contrary to every Bilberry 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 45 

boy’s ideas of propriety to sleep on the night before 
the Fourth ; and he dreamed that he was an enor- 
mous fire-cracker, and was all lighted and going off 
splendidly, and very proud of himself, when all the 
people in Tantrybogus and all the people in Poly- 
whappit began to pour cold water over him. He 
was very angry, and made an immense effort to go 
off, in spite of the cold water, and suddenly found 
himself wide awake, and rolling out of bed. 

It was daylight, but not a sound indicated that 
it was different from any ordinary day — no ring- 
ing of bells, no firing of guns, no inspiring rattle 
and bang of fire-crackers, not so much as the cheer- 
ing snap of one torpedo ! Nick felt that Poly- 
whappit was in a low condition morally, and ought 
to be aroused to a sense of its duties, and encour- 
aged to perform them. He took his money out of 
his pocket and counted it ; besides the five dollars 
that Augustus had given him he had some change 
which Tryphosa had slipped into his hand after 
she put the pie into his hat ; there was just thirty- 
seven cents ; counting it over three times wouldn’t 
make it any more than that. On a scrap of paper 
which he found in his pocket he wrote this note : 

“ Please celebrate a little, for it is an Orfool Disgrace 
not to have any fourth of july at all. i give you this dollar 
and Thirty Seven Cents to Help Along, as much noys as 
you could get for this would be a Grate Deel better than no 
fourth of july at all.” 


146 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

He enclosed the money in the note, ana slipped 
it under the door of Lysander Hewitt’s chamber. 
Then he hurried to the stage, and soon bade fare- 
well to Polywhappit. 

He had saved a little more than enough money 
to pay his fare home, and would have been glad to 
invest that little in fire-crackers for a parting sa- 
lute to Polywhappit ; but the stage-driver told him 
that not a fire-cracker was to be had in the town. 

“ There wa’n’t no great liveliness about the Poly- 
whappiters,” he said. 

It seemed to Nick that never before had stages 
and railroad trains moved so slowly as those that 
he rode on that day. The stages waited for the 
mails, and waited for passengers, and waited to 
feed the horses, and waited for a young lady to go 
back and find something she had forgotten, and 
for an old lady to go back and see if she hadn’t 
forgotten something. And the trains waited for 
wood and waited for water, and stopped, not only 
at the stations, but at almost every house they 
came to. Nick thought it was fortunate that the 
houses were a good many miles apart, otherwise 
they might never reach Bilberry. All the stations 
seemed half buried in the woods, and Nick saw 
scarcely a sign that anybody knew it was the 
Fourth of July. Once or twice a horrible suspi- 
cion seized him that the day had really dropped 
out of the calendar. But that was when he grew 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 4 / 

very tired and sleepy with the long ride and the 
jolting of the cars. 

Five o’clock came and went, while they were 
still miles away from Bilberry, Nick, in despair, 
pictured to himself the scene on the Common, the 
crowd shouting and clapping hands as the great 
balloon — the balloon which he might have been 
in — sailed skyward. But he might still be in 
time for the fireworks ; it was likely to be a dark 
night, and they would begin early, but he might 
get there before the close. But, alas ! nine miles 
away from Bilberry the engine broke down ! It 
might take hours to repair it, so Nick decided to 
walk the rest of the way. The seven-league boots 
could hardly have gone over those nine miles in a 
shorter space of time than Nick did, but it was all 
in vain. A distant glimpse of the last sky-rocket 
that went up from Bilberry Common was all he 
had ! 

When he walked into the village there were still 
a few belated people in the streets whom he heard 
congratulating each other upon the grandest Fourth 
of July celebration that Bilberry had ever known ! 

Nick hurried homeward, not feeling just in the 
mood to hear about the celebration. 

He went into the back yard, thinking he would 
creep up to his room by the back stairs, and not let 
anybody see him. But he stumbled over Tommy, 
who was fast asleep on a heap of empty torpedo 


148 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

boxes and fire-cracker papers, with a pop-gun still 
clutched tightly in his hand, and Tommy awoke, 
with one of the resounding screams for which he 
was famous. 

“ Keep still ! what h3.VQ j/oii got to cry about } ” 
said Nick bitterly. 

“I w-w-want it to be F-f -fourth of July some 
more ! ” sobbed Tommy. 

Tommy’s cry drew Aunt Jane from the front 
gate, where she was talking over the glories of the 
day with a neighbor, and Nick was discovered. 

“ So it’s you, though I wouldn’t have believed 
it,” said Aunt Jane. “ I don’t believe in boys 
slinking in by the back way, even if they have rea- 
son to be ashamed of themselves. If you’d been 
here you might have touched off the cannon, for 
Captain Thumb said he meant to let you — though 
I don’t believe in boys touching off cannons. And 
you might have gone up in the balloon ; for you 
had an invitation, and your father said he should 
have let you go, though / don’t believe in balloons. 
I should like to know where you have been, for I 
don’t believe in people leaving a splendid Fourth 
of July celebration in their own town to tramp all 
over the country ! ” 

“ Neither do I,” said Nick. He wouldn’t have 
believed that he should ever come to share one of 
Aunt Jane’s unbeliefs, but he did. 

Nick never expected to hear anything of the re- 


THE BOY WHO LOST FOURTH OF JULY. 1 49 

suit of his effort to arouse the patriotic feelings of 
the Polywhappiters ; but in less than a week after 
his return he received a letter in which Lysander 
Hewitt, in behalf of the selectmen, returned thanks 
for his generous gift, and regretted to say that, 
owing to the lateness of its reception, they had 
been unable to apply it to the object which he had 
mentioned ; but as the town had been for years 
afflicted with the nuisance of stray animals, espe- 
cially pigs, running loose about the streets for lack 
of a suitable enclosure, they had resolved to use the 
money, with his permission, to make a pound, to 
be called in compliment to him ^vThe Nick Twee- 
dle Pig-pound ! ” Nick hoped he never should 
hear anything more from those benighted Poly- 
whappiters, who preferred a pig-pound to a Fourth 
of July celebration. 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS, 


150 


CHAPTER X. 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 

HEN Lyddy Ann Grimsby was told that she 



V V was to go away to a fashionable boarding- 
school, she sat down on the flat stone step of the 
back door, between the tall mullein stalks, and 
wiped away a large tear-drop from the tip of her 
freckled nose ; only one, for Lyddy Ann had an 
intellect, and had discovered by the time she was 
four that it was of no use to cry. 

She was fourteen now ; and grandpa had said, 
just before he died, that when she was fourteen 
Lyddy Ann must be sent away to school because 
she had brains. Lyddy Ann had tried to And out, 
by way of Dilly, the “ hired girl,” why he thought 
she had brains ; but Dilly didn’t know unless it was 
because she had such a knobby forehead. Any- 
way, Lyddy Ann meant to prove that he was 
right ! She felt as if he were looking down, out 
of the blue sky, to see just what she did ; and she 
resolved that he should not be disappointed in her. 

Grandpa had said nothing about a fashionable 
school ; it was Uncle Phineas’s wife who had de- 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 151 

cided that matter. Uncle Phineas had gone away 
from Bilberry when he was young ; he hadn’t liked 
a place that you couldn’t find on the map, he said ; 
in fact, there is, on the large maps, only the tiniest 
dot to stand for Bilberry Centre and Bilberry 
Corner and the Port, and on the small maps no 
notice whatever is taken of the Bilberries or of the 
little river on which they straggle along. Uncle 
Phineas lived away out West now, and had made 
money in ways that Bilberry knew nothing about. 
He wrote home about wild-cats and bulls and bears 
in a way that thrilled Tommy Coquard’s soul, and 
made Lyddy Ann very anxious about him ; but 
it turned out, very disappointingly to Tommy Co- 
quard, that it meant only railroads and mines and 
wheat. Uncle Phineas’s wife was stylish, and she 
knew about this fashionable city school because 
some girls from Denver had been sent there ; she 
wrote that when Lyddy Ann had been there three 
years there wouldn’t be a sign of Bilberry Corner 
about her. 

Grandma’s spectacles grew misty when she read 
that, and Aunt Nabby sighed, and Dilly sniffed 
scornfully. Dilly thought Bilberry Corner was 
good enough for anybody. The very first thing 
that Lyddy Ann did after she had flicked away 
the tear was to say, — 

“ O Dilly ! who will look after Tommy Coquard 
and keep him out of mischief when I am gone ? ” 


152 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“ He is going to be a handful/’ admitted Dilly, 
shaking her head seriously. “ I don’t know how 
your grandmother is going to feel about keeping 
him.” 

“About keeping Tommy Coquard } ” Lyddy Ann 
sprang to her feet, and gazed at Dilly in bewil- 
dered dismay. 

“ Well, he isn’t our own, you know ; but there, 
child, you needn’t worry.” 

Dilly had one failing ; almost everybody has one, 
you know ; she didn’t like boys. That may have 
been because she didn’t know much about them. 
She had never had any brothers ; and she had lived 
at the Grimsby farm for twenty years, and in that 
time there had never been any boys there — until 
Tommy Coquard came. Grandpa had brought 
Tommy, with his mother, whom he had found ly- 
ing very ill by the roadside, in a storm. She had 
died without telling who she was or where she came 
from ; but she was apparently French, and grandpa 
thought she had come from or been travelling to 
the little French Canadian town across the river. 
But no one there professed to know anything about 
her, or wanted the boy, only about two years old 
then. They were poor in the little Canadian town, 
and children were plenty. So in spite of Dilly’s 
objection to boys, and grandma’s confession that 
she didn’t know what to do with him, and Aunt 
Nabby’s belief that you always ought to know who 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 1 53 

a child’s parents were, Tommy Coquard stayed on 
at the farm. Grandpa said he couldn’t bear to 
send the little chap to the poor-house. 

They called him Tommy Coquard because the 
name marked upon his clothes, nearly obliterated 
by hard usage, seemed as much like that as any- 
thing, grandpa being helped in the reading, per- 
haps, by the fact that Coquard was a name he had 
heard in the little French town. 

Tommy was six now ; and although he undoubt- 
edly was, as Dilly complained every day, just like 
a boy, he also was, as Lyddy Ann maintained, a 
dear. And the sharpest pang that Lyddy Ann 
suffered when she went away to the fashionable 
school was in parting from Tommy Coquard. 

What Tommy Coquard felt was shown by his run- 
ning after the stage, and forcing upon Lyddy Ann, 
with tears, his precious pet turtle — which Lyddy 
Ann could not bear to refuse, but was obliged 
to return by the stage-driver, because, on account 
of his wandering habits and his startling way of 
thrusting his huge head out of his shell, it seemed 
doubtful whether he would be welcomed at the fash- 
ionable school. 

The girls at the school looked at her as if she 
were very queer indeed, Liddy Ann thought ; and it 
seemed very strange after Mrs. Prouty, the Bil- 
berry dressmaker, had spent nearly two weeks in 
making new clothes for her, had made her a dress 


54 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


out of Aunt Nabby’s beautiful large plaid silk, 
purple and green, and two or three other dresses 
just as grandma and Aunt Nabby liked them ; and 
Dilly had tied grandma’s gold beads around her 
neck — strongly, so they wouldn’t come off, and 
pierced her ears so she could wear Aunt Nabby’s 
beautiful large gold ear-rings with the yellow stones 
in them. And Dilly had shown her how to “do 
up ” her hair instead of wearing it in a long braid. 

The girls at Madame Frey’s school were not so 
much “ dressed-up ” as she, but they looked very 
different ; Lyddy Ann saw that in a moment, with 
a sinking heart. The fashions didn’t reach Bil- 
berry until they were rather old ; and grandma 
and Aunt Nabby and Dilly had fashions of their 
own to which they clung, and which Mrs. Prouty 
mingled rather oddly with the newer ones. 

The girls had looked at each other and smiled ; 
one girl had tittered openly. Lyddy Ann almost 
lost the faith in Providence which Dilly whispered 
to her the very last thing that she must be sure to 
have, when she found that the girl who tittered 
was to be her room-mate. The girl’s name was 
Paulina Wells ; and besides being stylish, she wore 
glasses, through which she looked, Lyddy Ann 
thought, with a superior and disdainful air. 

Very early in the morning she sat up, and looked 
across from her little brass bedstead to Lyddy 
Ann’s little brass bedstead in the opposite corner 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. I 55 


of the room. She had taken her glasses from 
under her pillow, and adjusted them carefully upon 
her sharp little nose ; and Lyddy Ann thought it 
was their glitter which awoke her so suddenly that 
she sprang up in bed. 

‘‘You are not bad looking when you haven’t 
those clothes on — not at all bad looking,” said 
Paulina Wells, with candid criticism. “ Where is 
Bilberry Corner I never heard of it.” 

“It is a beautiful place,” said Lyddy Ann, with 
unshed tears smarting in her eyes, “ and the people 
are polite.” 

“Why did you do your hair up.? You’re not 
old enough, you know. If you’ll come over here, 
I’ll untie those gold beads for you. They’re aw- 
fully funny and old-fashioned,” continued Paulina 
Wells. 

“ I had my hair done up because I wanted to be 
fashionable. Now I don’t care whether I’m fash- 
ionable or not ! And I shall wear the beads,” 
cried Lyddy Ann resentfully. 

“ I should like to have a girl for a room-mate 
that the girls didn’t laugh at,” said Paulina Wells 
plaintively. “There was another new girl yester- 
day, Dorothy Harbinger ; my father knows hers ; 
he is a famous physician and very wealthy, they’re 
society people. They live here in the city ; but 
Dorothy will be a boarder because her aunt, who 
is at her house, is ill with nervous prostration and 


156 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


can’t hear her practise. Didn’t you see Dorothy } 
— plain hair and very chic 

Paulina Wells lisped a little ; and the French 
word conveyed less meaning than it might other- 
wise have done to Lyddy Ann, who didn’t know 
French, but was quick of wit. She had seen 
Dorothy Harbinger ; and Dorothy had smiled, not 
about, but at her, in friendly sympathy. She evi- 
dently didn’t mind because she was a new girl, but 
she seemed to understand that Lyddy Ann did. 

She rooms with Carlotta Prime, next door,” 
continued Paulina. ‘‘You can hear nearly every- 
thing through the register in that room, and all 
the others are where Miss Pulsifer can see lights 
under the doors ; she has eyes in the back of her 
head, and Fraulein Schoppe can smell goodies a 
mile off ; so we have all the high teas in here. Do 
you have much money to spend } Shall you give 
high teas ? ” 

Lyddy Ann thought of the dollar and thirty- 
seven cents for which she had sold her bantam 
chickens, and the Columbian half-dollar which Aunt 
Nabby had given her for a keepsake, and said she 
didn’t know. But her heart lightened a little at 
the thought of possible good times, as it does when 
one is fourteen. 

“Almost every Saturday night some girl gives 
a high tea ; lights out at ten all over the house 
you know; then we begin.” 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. I 57 

“ In the dark ? Do they let you ? ” asked Lyddy 
Ann stupidly. 

“ We stop up every chink to hide the lights. Of 
course they don’t let us ; that’s half the fun.” 

“ We wouldn’t have had a picnic in Bilberry 
without Caddy Ames ; she was the life of it. She 
was our teacher,” said Lyddy Ann reflectively. 

“ Bilberry must be a funny place. Here teach- 
ers are something you get the better of, if you’re 
smart.” 

“ I don’ tlike that, someway,” said Lyddy Ann ; 
but she said it to herself, and it began to seem to 
her discouragingly possible that grandpa had been 
mistaken about the significance of her knobby fore- 
head. 

“ Shall you have things sent you from home — 
goodies } ” continued Paulina Wells, who, after all, 
had a practical mind — and a sweet tooth. 

I shall have a birthday in about two months ; 
then they’ll send me a box,” said Lyddy Ann. 

Paulina Wells talked glibly, giving instructions 
about the successful smuggling of nougatines, ice- 
cream, and marsh-mallows ; but Lyddy Ann was 
silent, instructing herself, as it were, and making 
a strong resolution. 

She had wept a little, in the night, under the 
bed-clothes, and solaced herself — weakly, as she 
knew — with visions of a home-going in which ev- 
erything had come right. Bilberry schools were 


158 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

good enough for any one, as Dilly thought; one 
needn’t be so very smart, even if one’s forehead 
were knobby ; every one liked boys, and never said 
they didn’t know what to do with Tommy Coquard, 
and he could have all the queer live things he 
wanted for pets — even toads, although Lyddy 
Ann herself had never been able to thoroughly 
enjoy those ; and one need never, never be fashion- 
able. But Lyddy Ann put that bright, impossible 
dream sternly away now, and said to herself that 
life was a struggle, as Dilly said when the butter 
didn’t come, or it rained on her new bonnet. 

“ They may look down upon me,” she added 
firmly, still hearing nothing of Paulina Wells’s 
chatter, ‘‘but I will not let them look down upon 
Bilberry Corner.” 

The girl from Bilberry Corner was a better 
scholar in some directions than any one expected ; 
there was scarcely a mathematical nut too hard for 
her to crack. But when Paulina Wells said that 
she was lucky again, her last room-mate had done 
her examples for her, Lyddy Ann calmly replied 
that she shouldn’t ; they didn’t do things in that 
way in Bilberry Corner, they thought it was mean ; 
but she was willing to help her just as far as it 
was fair to do so. 

She helped all the scholars, and there began to 
be a real interest in mathematics ; and poor Frau- 
lein Schoppe, who taught the classes, brightened 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. I 59 

up, and was actually seen to smile, and it was sus- 
pected that she had pulled the gray hairs out of 
her head. 

Lyddy Ann put away her plaid silk dress and 
wore her plainer ones, and took the long ear-rings 
out of her ears ; but she would not let Paulina 
Wells untie the gold beads ; she said she liked to 
wear them because they were grandma’s. Lyddy 
Ann and Dorothy Harbinger had proved to be 
congenial spirits, greatly to the astonishment of 
Paulina Wells. Dorothy said she did love a girl 
who could do geometry, and have a good time if 
her hair wasn’t crimped. Besides these accom- 
plishments, Lyddy Ann had a knack at candy-mak- 
ing which was appreciated by all the girls ; and 
she actually obtained leave — through the media- 
tion of Fraulein Schoppe — to have a candy-pull 
in the kitchen. She went to several high teas, 
held in the girls’ rooms after the lights were sup- 
posed to be out, but she didn’t like the anxiety 
and the scrambling haste ; she told the girls plainly 
that they didn’t do underhanded things at Bilberry 
Corner. 

There was an increased respect for Bilberry 
Corner in that school ; even Paulina Wells used 
her eye-glasses more politely when she looked at 
Lyddy Ann ; but Lyddy Ann felt a little anx- 
iety about the birthday box which Paulina Wells 
had told every one she was to have sent her, and 


i6o 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


with whose contents she planned to give a high 
tea. She had obtained permission to give the tea 
in the small schoolroom, and Dorothy Harbinger 
was to receive with her, and Lyddy Ann fondly 
hoped that the affair would reflect credit upon 
Bilberry Corner. But Billy’s dainties were apt to 
be old-fashioned and countryfied ; Lyddy Ann was 
even afraid there might be doughnuts — in truth, 
she was fond of doughnuts, and Dilly knew it, 
while the girls at Madame Frey’s would be sure to 
hold them in utter scorn. She couldn’t quite bring 
herself to give Dilly a hint about that box, Dilly 
would so thoroughly enjoy its preparation, and be 
sure that she knew just what Lyddy Ann would 
like. It was a comfort to know that there would 
be a birthday cake, beautifully frosted and covered 
with little red and white candies ; that had been 
made for every birthday that she could remember. 

It was Friday night when the box came, and the 
invitations were out for Lyddy Ann’s high tea the 
next day. It was a big box ; and when the express- 
man set it down in her room, Lyddy Ann felt, 
with a thrill of relief, that the birthday cake must 
be very large. Paulina Wells, who was toasting 
marsh-mallows over the lamp, stood over the box 
with a very large marsh-mallow impaled upon a 
hat -pin ; and Dorothy Harbinger, who was visit- 
ing them, walked around it reflectively ; she was 
very anxious for the success of that tea. She 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. l6l 

leaned down and listened, and then ran her fingers 
through two or three holes in the top. Queer 
little noises came from the box. 

“ Girls, there’s something alive in it ! ” cried 
Dorothy Harbinger. While the cover was being 
taken off that queer sound went on — chirr-r-r. 

“ I know it’s a squirrel ! ” cried Dorothy. 

“Tommy Coquard ! ” murmured Lyddy Ann, 
with forebodings. It was a large gray squirrel in 
a cage ; but he could thrust his head between the 
wires of the cage, and he had nibbled the top 
entirely off the birthday cake ! 

The cake had evidently had a chocolate frosting, 
and been covered with nuts instead of the little 
red and white candies that had been good enough 
before. Lyddy Ann had just mentioned to Dilly, 
in a letter, that she didn’t mean to let those girls 
look down on Bilberry Corner. 

“Tommy Coquard is a love,” said Lyddy Ann 
loyally. “ He has sent me what he prized most, 
but — oh, dear! the cake! and what shall I do with 
the squirrel } ” 

“ He’s a splendid fellow,” said Dorothy, making 
friends with the captive, whose “chirr” had grown 
more noisy with delight at being liberated from the 
box. 

“ I think Aunt Ethelberta would like him ; she’s 
never too nervous for a new pet, and they take up 
her mind.” 


1 62 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

It was Aunt Ethelberta whose nervous illness 
had caused Dorothy to be sent to school. 

“ Perhaps we could get leave to carry him to 
her — you and I, this afternoon,” added Dorothy 
hopefully. “Madame would do anything rather 
than let you keep a squirrel ! ” 

That would be a relief, thought Lyddy Ann ; but 
her high tea weighed heavily on her mind. 

“ There’s something in a box, and the cover has 
only been nibbled a little,” said Paulina Wells, 
who was more interested in goodies than in pets. 
Lyddy Ann opened the box, and she smelled clover- 
fields and summer mornings, for it was a curd 
cheese. 

“ Oh, what funny, countryfied stuff ! ” cried Pau- 
lina Wells, disappointed out of what little polite- 
ness she had. “And if that pasteboard box isn’t 
full of doughnuts ! There’s a pair of roasted chick- 
ens, but why didn’t she send angel cake instead.-* 
And there, in the bottoni of the box — oh, my ! 
how funny, is a great big patchwork quilt ; calico 
too. The girls will die ! ” 

Lyddy Ann held her head high, and her eyes 
flashed through a mist. “ It’s the rainbow pattern ; 
I think it’s beautiful,” she said firmly. “ I know 
Dilly has been a long time making it ; she never 
would let me see it. She meant to surprise me. 
There are pieces of every one’s clothes ; it is just 
like home ! That is grandma’s purple wrapper ; and 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 163 

oh, that brocade is grandpa’s wedding-vest ! It 
isn’t all calico, it’s mixed up ; we think more of 
feelings than looks in Bilberry Corner ; and that 
brown silk is a piece of the little cloak that Tommy 
Coquard wore when grandpa brought him home. 
I think it’s a handsome quilt, and I shall put it on 
my bed ! ” 

“I like things that mean something — that have 
associations ; they’re better than anything you can 
buy,” said Dorothy Harbinger. 

Paulina Wells’s sharp little nose elevated itself a 
trifle, but she said no more. There was a letter in 
the box which troubled Lyddy Ann more than the 
squirrel’s ravages. 

‘‘ Tommy Coquard is a boy,” wrote Dilly ; “ and 
your grandmother says she ain’t fit to bring him 
up. Besides, it’s being found out every day that 
there ain’t much proputty. So your grandmother 
is going to let a man from the French town, that 
says he’s his uncle, have Tommy Coquard ; he’s 
going to carry him back to France with him, right 
away.” It was a relief to go home with Dorothy, 
because it diverted one’s mind a little from this 
sad news. 

Aunt Ethelberta did want the gray squirrel; 
she promised to let Lyddy Ann have him again 
when she went home to Bilberry Corner. Lyddy 
Ann wished to keep him for Tommy Coquard’s 
sake. 


164 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

Aunt Ethelberta liked queer pets, just as Tommy 
Coquard did; she had always been accustomed to 
having them about, for her father had been a fa- 
mous naturalist ; she did not even flinch when 
Lyddy Ann told her about the toads that Tommy 
took to bed with him. She said he must be a dear 
little fellow. Lyddy Ann couldn’t tell her how dear 
he was, now that he was going away ; she choked 
when she tried to. Dorothy explained to her, aside, 
that the loss of Aunt Ethelberta’s own little boy 
had caused her illness ; he had died four years be- 
fore, and she had never recovered from the shock. 
On the way back to school Lyddy Ann planned to 
send a telegram to her grandmother in the morn- 
ing : — 

“ Don’t let Tommy’s uncle have him. I will 
take care of him,” she would say. 

That might sound self-sufficient for a girl of 
fourteen, but some one must take care of Tommy ! 
Grandpa would not have let the uncle have him, 
she thought ; they were poor and thriftless people 
in that French town ; but grandma was feeble and 
childish, and Aunt Nabby shared Dilly’s objection 
to boys, and was afraid of all Tommy’s pets, even 
of the little blind mole that he was educating. She 
would think of some way by which she could take 
care of Tommy Coquard ; a girl from Bilberry Cor- 
ner with a knobby forehead must not give up ! 

That other and slighter problem of the high tea 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 1 65 

troubled her a little when she laid her head on the 
pillow that night. The invitations were out for the 
next night, and there were only two roast chick- 
ens, the curd cheese and the doughnuts of Pau- 
lina Wells’s scorn, to furnish forth the feast. And 
Paulina said she didn’t know about eating things 
that came in a box with a squirrel. Aunt Nabby 
had sent her a five-dollar gold piece as a keepsake ; 
should she spend it all for goodies, or should she 
regale her friends on doughnuts and curd cheese, 
\vith perhaps the addition of some peanut taffy 
which she could get permission to make, and for 
which she knew a crisp and toothsome Bilberry 
Corner recipe } Bilberry Corner would hold its 
head up, and not be ashamed of its doughnuts and 
cheese, however Paulina Wells might jeer.! 

But before the matter was quite settled in Lyddy 
Ann’s mind things began to be a little mixed, and 
Tommy Coquard rode gayly off on a bicycle, of 
which the wheels were made of doughnuts — or 
were they gold pieces } or — no, they certainly 
were Fraulein Schoppe’s eye-glasses. 

She awoke from that queer dream with a start 
as Tommy Coquard rode recklessly into the Atlan- 
tic Ocean. There was a faint light in the room by 
which she saw that Paulina Wells’s bed was empty. 
The light came from the queer little “ cubby-hole ” 
closet which extended under the eaves of that wing 
of the house in which their room was situated. 


1 66 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

As Lyddy Ann looked, Paulina Wells crawled 
out of the closet, which was too low for her to stand 
upright in, and sat in its. doorway, greedily eating 
doughnuts and curd cheese. Occasionally she 
threw some fragments over her shoulder into the 
closet, and Lyddy Ann remembered that Paulina 
had advised her not to put her box of eatables in 
there lest mice should get into it ; but Lyddy Ann 
had never heard any mice there, and had not heeded 
the warning. Paulina meant to make her think 
that mice had eaten the doughnuts and curd 
cheese. 

Lyddy Ann shut her eyes tightly when Paulina 
Wells looked towards her bed. She felt as if the 
disgrace would certainly kill Paulina, if she were 
discovered ; and she was generous enough to prefer 
to sacrifice her goodies. She thought she might 
even be able to resist the temptation to tell Doro- 
thy, provided that Paulina didn’t express any more 
contempt for doughnuts and curd cheese ; there 
were limitations to Lyddy Ann’s self-control. 

She lay awake until Paulina had finished her 
feast. Occasionally she ventured to take a peep ; 
and she discovered that Paulina’s hair and night- 
gown were cobwebby from the closet, which was 
not supposed to be used, and was never cleaned ; 
and her face was smeared with cheese like a child’s ; 
and, with her glasses on, she looked so funny, that 
Lyddy Ann was forced to hide her head for a mo- 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 1 6 / 

ment under the bed-clothes and give way to mirth. 
At last the feast came to an end ; Paulina extin- 
guished her candle and returned to bed, and it very 
soon became evident that she was fast asleep. 
Then Lyddy Ann went to sleep again, and dreamed 
another queer dream : she was swinging in the 
great barn at home, and Philetus, the “ hired man,” 
swung her and swung her until she was dizzy, al- 
though she cried out to him to stop ; and then all 
the hay in the loft came down upon her, slowly, 
gradually, but she couldn’t escape it, and she was 
suffocating, and she couldn’t cry out. But she did 
cry out, at last, springing up in bed with a pain- 
ful weight upon her chest, and a horror of thick 
suffocating blackness around her. 

“ Fire ! fire ! ” she cried, and a wild scream from 
Paulina Wells and shrieks from the adjoining room 
echoed her cry. Lyddy Ann half dressed herself 
in breathless haste. Paulina Wells opened the 
door into the corridor, and the flames rushed in. 

“ Shut it, quick ! ” cried Lyddy Ann. The fire 
has burst out in the end of the cubby-hole — where 
you set the candle down ! This wing is cut off by 
fire from the rest of the house ! ” 

Dorothy Harbinger and her room-mate came in 
by a door, which, fortunately, connected the two 
rooms, the only ones on that floor of the wing. 

Bring the spreads off your beds ! ” cried Lyddy 
Ann, displaying the practical abilities behind her 


i68 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


knobby forehead. “We will tie them together — 
yours and those on our beds ; they are stronger 
than sheets, and with my patchwork quilt we can 
make a rope that will reach to the ground ! ” 

They were in the third story of the wing ; Lyddy 
Ann’s rope was strong and long, but the descent 
was frightful, although there were helpful hands 
waiting to receive them now, and encouraging 
shouts came to them. 

Dorothy and her room-mate went down safely ; 
but Lyddy Ann was forced to almost drag Paulina 
Wells, who had nearly lost her senses with terror. 
And near the ground Paulina gave up her hold, and 
Lyddy Ann was not strong enough to cling to her. 
She fell upon the birch walk, and was so badly 
hurt as to be insensible. 

She was wrapped in Lyddy Ann’s patchwork 
quilt, and carried into the house, the main body of 
which was quite unharmed and likely to remain so, 
for the firemen had speedily gained control of the 
flames. 

Madame Frey, in a panic, proposed to send her 
to the hospital ; but Dorothy Harbinger’s father, 
appearing just in time, interposed, and offered to 
take her to his own house, and attend to her in- 
juries himself. Paulina’s father was known to him ; 
and he was thinking, perhaps, that his own daugh- 
ter might have been the unfortunate sufferer. 
Paulina clung to Lyddy Ann ; and Lyddy Ann went 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. 1 69 

to the doctor’s too, and Dorothy’s room-mate as 
well, the whole party wearing for wraps the bed- 
quilts of Lyddy Ann’s hastily devised fire-escape. 
After all, however, their clothing was mostly saved, 
and was sent to them at Dr. Harbinger’s. 

But it was while Paulina Wells, whose injuries 
were a badly sprained ankle and some painful 
bruises, was still wrapped in the patchwork quilt 
which she had so held in scorn, that Dorothy’s 
Aunt Ethelberta went to see her. She admired 
the rainbow quilt so heartily that Lyddy Ann told 
her all about it, and just whose dresses the pieces 
that made the rainbow came from. 

^‘That bit of brown silk with the queer little 
apple figure, is a bit of Tommy Coquard’s little 
cloak,” she said ; the cloak he wore when grandpa 
found him.” 

And a pang rent Lyddy Ann’s heart, because in 
the excitement she had forgotten the telegram she 
was going to send, and before she could stop it 
Tommy Coquard might be carried off to France. 
Aunt Ethelberta gazed at the bit of brown silk, 
and every bit of color went out of her face. 

Found him } ” she echoed. 

» Grandpa found him with his mother, a French 
woman; she was dying beside the road; and she 
seemed to have walked a long ways” — 

Aunt Ethelberta clung to Dorothy’s father, 
trembling like a leaf. 


70 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“ Dodo’s little cloak ! A French woman ! it was 
Melanie ! ” she gasped. Her brother tried to calm 
her. 

It seemed certain that he was the child who 
died in the hospital ; don’t excite yourself with 
false hopes,” he said gently. 

“ Melanie was a bad woman ; she hoped for a re- 
ward ; and she had a brother in Canada ! Bilberry 
is near the line — tell me how the boy looks ! how 
she looked ! ” cried Aunt Ethelberta frantically. 

Coarse, black curly hair, and a dent in her fore- 
head as if some one had struck her,” explained 
Lyddy Ann, recalling the French woman’s looks. 
‘‘And Tommy is so different ; oh, he is like you ! ” 
she cried suddenly. “ I can see it now ! And 
his name ! — it was Crawford that we took for 
Coquard ! ” 

“ It was Theodore Crawford ! ” said Aunt Ethel- 
berta ; and she was able to be quite calm as her 
hope grew into assurance — for joy does not kill. 

Lyddy Ann sent her telegram, but this was the 
way it ran : “ Keep Tommy Coquard. I have 
found his mother.” The French maid had hidden 
her steps carefully when she had carried the child 
away hoping for a reward ; and a false clew which 
led them to believe he had died in a foundling 
hospital, had stopped the search that might have 
discovered him. The man who wished to take 
him was really the woman’s brother, and believed 


THE GIRL FROM BILBERRY CORNER. IJl 

the child to be his sister’s ; she had died on her 
way to the little town which had been her home 
in childhood. 

Next to having Tommy for our own, I would 
rather have him yours,” said Lyddy Ann to Aunt 
Ethelberta and Dorothy, with joyful tears. 

** Aren’t you really going to tell of me } I’ve 
always been pretty mean to you,” said Paulina 
Wells on the day when she went back to school. 

I think you’ve had enough,” said Lyddy Ann, 
Besides, we don’t like to tell of each other at 
Bilberry Corner, and we never tell tales when it 
doesn’t do any good. I’m going to have another 
box from home, and give a high tea ; and I’m going 
to invite you and Dorothy to receive with me.” 

Paulina Wells wiped her misty eye-glasses. I 
think you’re a very uncommonly nice girl,” she 
said. '^And I think Bilberry Corner must be a 
splendid place. I always liked doughnuts and 
patchwork quilts.” 


72 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER XL 


A NEW YORK BOY AT SCHOOL WITH SOME OF THE 
BILBERRIES. 



NEW boy was especially welcome at Saint 


Luke’s school that summer ; there was need 
of a good bowler at cricket, of a catcher who 
could take Puffer’s place in the base-ball nine when 
he was obliged to study out of school-hours, — 
poor Puffer, who was as weak at mathematics as 
he was strong at base-ball, and who was now stuck 
fast on the pons asinornm^ — also of a fellow who 
wouldn’t knuckle to old Presby for the sake of 
Miss Mildred Ellicott’s five o’clock teas, and who 
could take hard knocks generally without flinching, 
as a boy should. 

They didn’t really expect the cricketer ; there 
was only one other school in New England at 
which cricket was played, and some of the boys 
thought base-ball was good enough ; indeed. Law- 
ton, who had started it, despaired of ever getting 
enough players for a double wicket. The boys 
liked tennis, too, which Lawton thought girly ; ” 
and there was scarcely one who regarded with the 


JV£W YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES, 1/3 


disdain which Lawton thought proper, the choco- 
late and angel cake of Mildred Ellicott's five o’clock 
teas. 

But it was a New York boy who was coming, — 
almost in the middle of the summer term, — and 
Lawton declared that he had hopes of him. Law- 
ton was a New Yorker himself. 

Pupils were seldom allowed to enter so near the 
end of the school year ; but a special dispensation 
had been made in this boy’s favor, no one quite 
knew why. 

Lawton and Fraser Hallett, who were kindred 
spirits, walked down to the station on the morn- 
ing when he was to arrive. Two very large leather 
trunks and several brass-mounted boxes stood on 
the platform of the little station. They were cov- 
ered so thickly with the labels of foreign travel as 
to suggest the probability that some pains had 
been taken to preserve them. 

“That’s some girl’s toggery,” said Lawton con- 
temptuously. “ Girls are always afraid people 
won’t find out that they’ve been abroad. I know 
’em.” Lawton had four sisters, and was therefore 
regarded as unquestionable authority upon the 
ways of girls, and his stern resistance to the lures 
of five o’clock tea was also attributed to his experi- 
ence as a brother. 

But Fraser Hallett was pointing a scornful fin- 
ger at the luggage. “ Peter Ten Fyck Tafferton, 


74 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


New York,” he read, in a tone of ineffable con- 
tempt. 

“ It’s him,” said Lawton despairingly. (They 
taught grammar at Saint Luke’s, but — Lawton 
was a boy.) “ But then, a fellow isn’t to blame 
for his name,” he added, a little more hopefully. 

“ He needn’t write it all out on his trunks, nor 
sit up nights to keep those labels stuck on. There 
is no sand in him ; here he comes ! ” 

A tall boy of fifteen or sixteen, with an absent- 
minded air, and near-sighted eyes peering through 
glasses, came out of the little station, and pointed 
out his trunks to Uncle Simeon, the old colored 
man who had carried homesick boys and their 
luggage up the steep hill from the station to the 
school for many a long year. The new boy had a 
drawling voice, and his hands were unpardonably 
white, judged by the stern (unwritten) laws of 
Saint Luke’s. Lawton and Fraser Hallett ob- 
jected to the glasses also. Little Dick Hallett, 
the pluckiest boy in the third class, wore them ; 
but then, it makes a difference whether one wears 
them of necessity, or for effect. It was clear to 
Lawton’s mind that the new fellow wore them for 
effect. 

And he said, ‘‘ Here, boy ! ” to ’Sander Perrigo 
in a way that made ’Sander flush and scowl angrily. 
’Sander had come from North Bilberry, in Maine, 
to work his way through the school ; he was gen- 


ATEJV YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. 1 75 


eral errand boy; window cleaner and driver when 
rheumatism disabled old Simeon ; he helped the 
gardener with his digging, and even Miranda, the 
cook, with her dinner on special occasions. 

The boys generally treated him as one of them- 
selves ; he had distinguished himself in the base- 
ball nine, and even as a cricketer, and muscle was 
more highly regarded than money or social posi- 
tion, at Saint Luke’s. 

“ That new fellow had no business to speak to 
’Sander as if he were a servant,” Lawton said, 
with more indignation than he might have shown 
if the new fellow had been satisfactory ; for Lawton 
had been heard to say that when it came to a lawn 
party on Class Day, he wasn’t sure that it was the 
thing to introduce ’Sander to one’s cousins and sis- 
ters, especially now that his fifteen-year-old sister 
was a waiter at Mrs. Carter’s boarding-house. 

Here was Dr. Ellicott, the head master ; when 
had he been known to come to the station before 
to welcome a new boy } 

“ I always knew old Ginger was a toady,” re- 
marked Fraser Hallett. “And Miss Mildred will 
have that mollycoddle pouring for her at her very 
next tea ! ” 

“It’s all he’s good for,” said Lawton, with a 
heavy sigh.- “ And when that cricket match comes 
off, the Graftons will knock the daylight out of us ! 
— that’s all there is about it.” 


176 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

“ Right side up with care — perfumery bottles, 
’Sander,” called Fraser Hallett as the trunks were 
lifted into the wagon. 

The owner of the trunks peered at Fraser across 
the doctor’s portly form, and his thin face flushed 
sensitively. 

’Sander Perrigo confided his opinion of the new 
boy to his sister, Abby Ellen, in the retirement of 
Mrs. Carter’s back porch that evening. 

“ He offered me a quarter ! I didn’t fire it at 
him, but I said, so he knew what I meant, that the 
doctor paid me.” 

“ I’m afraid you’re too proud,” said Abby Ellen, 
with a little sigh. 

^^You don’t understand. A girl can’t be ex- 
pected to,” said ’Sander loftily. ‘‘You don’t mind 
waiting upon people, and you like it when they 
give you pink ribbons.” 

Abby Ellen blushed guiltily ; it was impossible 
to deny the pink-ribbon impeachment. 

“ I heard Mrs. Carter say that Mr. Presby 
thought your Latin verses were remarkable,” she 
ventured, in an effort to console ’Sander. 

His gloomy face brightened, but only for a mo- 
ment. “ A fellow like me in a school like this has 
got to bear a lot. I’m willing to, for the sake of 
being somebody some day ; but I can’t bear that 
new fellow’s ways. I shall have to take the wind 
out of his sails ! ” 


JVEIV YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. I// 

‘^Oh! I hope you won’t, ’Sander,” said Abby 
Ellen anxiously. “ There are only six weeks be- 
fore vacation, and perhaps he won’t come back 
again.” 

But ’Sander repeated the thrilling prophecy that 
he should take the wind out of the new boy’s 
sails. 

Peter Ten Eyck Tafferton did make himself use- 
ful at Miss Mildred’s tea. 

He had on stunning clothes, and you ought to 
have heard him drawl ; and his as were broader 
than the Boston fellows’ — so English, you know ; 
and all the girls liked him,” Fraser Hallet reported 
to Lawton. And it was at this first tea that the 
new-comer’s many-syllabled name was abbreviated 
to Taffy. 

Lawton and Fraser Hallett were leaders, and 
very few advances were made to the new pupil. 

“ Leave him to the girls,” was Lawton’s con- 
temptuous decree. And, in fact, Taffy seemed to 
be in his element when Miss Mildred Ellicott took 
him to play tennis with the Bramer girls who had 
already arrived at their summer cottage. 

The next Saturday after his arrival Taffy ap- 
peared in his tennis-suit long before it was time 
for the game at the Bramers’. He strolled lan- 
guidly down to the cricket-field, with a camp-stool ; 
and seated himself in a convenient place to watch 
the game. Derisive shouts greeted the camp-stool. 


178 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

and there were even threats to hoist” Taffy to 
the grass ; to all of which he listened with such an 
imperturbable air that one was almost forced to 
believe him deaf. Reckless balls flew dangerously 
near him, A few boys thought it would be better 
fun to knock Taffy’s glasses off than to beat at 
cricket. Lawton was too intent upon the game to 
pay any attention to the spectator; and ’Sander 
who was catching, had no time for more than a 
scowl at the offender ; while Fraser Hallett, who 
was a fielder, contented himself with staring quizzi- 
cally at him, occasionally providing himself with 
an imaginary eye-glass by the aid of his thumb and 
forefinger. 

Little Dick Hallett was struck by the “ new 
fellow’s ” critical air. 

‘‘ Perhaps he knows how ; we might ask him to 
join,” he suggested to Lawton. Dick was good- 
natured, and it was his avowed theory that ‘‘ a fel- 
low ought to have a fair chance.” 

“ That ^ sissy ! ’ He’d look better playing cro- 
quet with the old ladies at Mrs. Carter’s,” cried 
Lawton scornfully. And Lawton was angry with 
himself for feeling chagrined that his side had 
never played so badly as they played under the 
cool, near-sighted eyes of Tafferton, and a little dis- 
appointed that he sauntered off with his camp-stool 
just as they began to do a little better. 

Little Dick Hallett remarked to his comrade. 





TAFFY AT CRICKET. 

He strolled languidly down to the cricket field with a camp-stool, and 
seated himself to watch the game.” 


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YORK BOV WITH THE BILBERRIES. 1 79 

Simcoe, that ‘‘Taffy looked a little red and queer 
when he went away, as if his feelings were hurt, 
you know.” But little Dick was suspected in some 
quarters of being “ soft-hearted.” 

Taffy was not a fine scholar, but much considera- 
tion was shown him by Dr. Ellicott and all the teach- 
ers ; a fact which did not improve his standing with 
the boys. He was not a fine scholar, but he could 
translate Latin verses better than ’Sander Perrigo. 

Lawton condoled feelingly with ’Sander. 

“ What does a fellow that’s so smart as you want 
to write verses for } ” he said. “ Taffy’ll turn out 
a poet — you’ll see ! and it will serve him right ! ” 

But ’Sander, who could not share Lawton’s prac- 
tical views, felt his heart burn within him. 

Eastham village awoke early one June morning 
to find itself placarded all over with circus-bills. 
The store doors, the back-yard fences, even the 
grim faces of the everlasting hills which formed a 
rampart on one side of the village, set forth in 
red, yellow, and blue letters the news that Var- 
ley’s Circus was coming. Although Saint Luke’s 
was looking forward to the excitement of Class 
Day and the joys of vacation, a mild diversion like 
the circus was welcome. 

Only one afternoon and evening could a great 
circus give to a little town like Eastham. All day 
people from the back districts came flocking into 
the village, as if to a county fair or a muster. The 


i8o 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


great procession passed through the village streets 
early in the morning with huge wild beasts and 
bewitching little ponies, and hints of most fasci- 
nating wonders to be seen behind the great white 
canvas walls in the field at the end of Fore Street. 

And Abby Ellen, who had watched the proces- 
sion, dish-towel in hand, over Mrs. Carter’s back- 
yard fence, cried to go that evening. 

To do Abby Ellen justice, she was not given to 
crying ; but circuses came seldom to Bilberry, and 
she worked very hard now — Mrs. Carter’s house 
was full of summer boarders. She looked across 
the road at the Bramer girls’ lawn-parties ; and 
down the road at the merry buckboard loads that 
drove by, with horn-blowing and singing ; and it 
seemed to her that no good times ever came her 
way. 

’Sander said it was “fooling money away” to 
go to a circus. ’Sander had secured “a job ” that 
morning, which gave him a private view ; but he 
could not resist Abby Ellen’s tears. 

They sat far up in front ; ’Sander said they 
would have “ as good seats as anybody , ” and very 
near them sat Taffy with two old ladies ; for Taffy 
really played croquet in his languid fashion, at 
Mrs. Carter’s, having found a friend there, and 
was very attentive to the old ladies. Abby Ellen 
found the animals so fascinating, especially the 
little trick ponies ; the music so thrilling ; and the 


JVEIV YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. l8l 

clown such a delightfully funny fellow, that she 
became very much excited and laughed until she 
cried, and ’Sander was ashamed of her. But Taffy 
and the old ladies laughed, too, until they all had 
to wipe their eyes ; and Taffy applauded so vigor- 
ously that he split one of his lemon-colored kid 
gloves down the back. 

Suddenly Abby Ellen stood up and leaned ea- 
gerly forward, resisting all ’Sander’s efforts to pull 
her down. 

’Sander, it is — it is Deacon Baldwin’s Jo!” 
she cried. Don’t you see, ’Sander ^ the one that’s 
riding the mustang I the one they call Senor Cara- 
ballero on the bills ! It was in the midst of hay- 
ing three years ago that Jo ran away, — and it 
killed his mother. Don’t you remember how he 
used to ride Dr. Kittredge’s Whirlwind, and could 
always break colts when nobody else could ? If 
they do call him Senor Caraballero he is just Jo 
Baldwin ! Oh ! how glad his father will be I ” 

Abby Ellen, carried away by excitement, spoke 
loud; and people frowned at the disturbance, and 
one or two even hissed, for the clown in the fore- 
ground was cracking his whip and his jokes, and 
they wished to hear. 

But Taffy looked at her sympathetically, and 
adjusted his glasses to get a better view of Seftor 
Caraballero. 

’Sander was standing, himself, now. Was it 


82 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


possible that this gorgeous being in scarlet and 
spangles standing jauntily a-tiptoe of the racing 
little mustang pony was the old comrade with 
whom he had gone coasting and fishing and tamed 
squirrels and set traps when he was “a little 
shaver ” ? 

There came the mustang, racing madly around 
the ring again, but — what had happened ? There 
was a cry of dismay, and all the spectators were on 
their feet now. 

“ He’s fallen off ! ” cried Abby Ellen. Oh ! 
no wonder — though he never fell off Dr. Kitt- 
ridge’s Whirlwind. Oh ! I hope he isn’t killed.” 

The manager came forward, and made a sooth- 
ing explanation to the excited audience. Senor 
Caraballero, the daring rider, was not hurt. He 
had been ill for some time, and had been seized 
with a fainting-fit ; — and now the performance 
would go on as usual. 

‘‘ Let’s go and see poor Jo, ’Sander ! ” said Abby 
Ellen eagerly. “ He’ll be so glad to see old friends 
— especially if he is sick.” 

They made their way around to the back of the 
tent. Senor Caraballero, already divested of his 
gaudy riding-dress, was being helped off across the 
field by an infirm old man who apparently needed 
help himself. 

“ Where are you taking him } ” called ’Sander. 

I declare, if it isn’t to Phillips’s old barn on the 


Ar£fv YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. 1 83 

edge of the woods ! ” he added to Abby Ellen. 
They both ran forward, but the old man waved 
them back. 

It’s ketchin’ — ketchin’ ! ” he said. “ He’s 
been sick most two weeks, and now he’s breakin’ 
out. He ketched it of some sailors down to Har- 
bormouth. He’s got to be kept out of the way of 
folks.” 

“What does he mean, ’Sander.?” asked Abby 
Ellen anxiously. 

“ I suppose he means — smallpox,” said ’Sander 
slowly. “ There are cases of it sometimes in those 
sailor boarding-houses at Harbormouth.” 

Abby Ellen’s round face grew pale under its 
coating of yellow freckles. 

“ We can’t leave him alone — like this ! ” she 
said. 

“ They won’t let us go near him,” said ’Sander. 
And, in fact, as Abby Ellen advanced, the old man 
waved his arm more imperatively than ever. 

Jo looked around with a faint gleam of recogni- 
tion — a pitiful, appealing look — and Abby Ellen 
would have rushed to him if ’Sander had not held 
her back. 

“ You can’t, you know ! They won’t let you ; 
it’s against the law,” he said hoarsely. ’Sander 
was miserable ; Abby Ellen could see it in his 
face; he had always liked Jo Baldwin. But the 
law ! one could not defy that. 


184 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


All but the very earliest risers in Eastham awoke 
to find that the circus had gone, leaving scarcely a 
trace behind them. Very soon it was rumored 
about the village that even the old man who had 
taken care of Senor Caraballero in Phillips’s old 
barn had gone, too, following in the rear of the pro- 
cession as fast as his infirm old legs would carry 
him. There was much indignation ; how could the 
town take care of a smallpox patient } And old 
Dr. Furber was away; and young Dr. Merriman 
from Oldtown was so very young that people had 
but little confidence in him ; but no one doubted 
that his verdict was correct — that the patient was 
very ill with smallpox, and that, in common hu- 
manity, a nurse must be found for him. 

But a nurse was not to be found. It was haying- 
time, and harvest-time for those who kept summer 
boarders, and Eastham had a great horror of small- 
pox. 

Food and water were conveyed to the sick boy 
through the barn window by means of a long 
pole. Abby Ellen persuaded ’Sander to go over to 
the barn with her and help her to convey to Jo 
some delicate broth that she had made. ’Sander 
had grumbled all the way — after ’Sander’s fashion 
— but Abby Ellen did not care, for she had dis- 
covered that he had already been there himself 
and offered Jo such condolences as he could, from 
the stone wall a hundred feet away. 


J\r£lV YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. 1 85 

’Sander and Abby Ellen were such busy people 
that it was not until twilight that they could find 
leisure for their errand ; and as they reached Phil- 
lips’s barn a new moon poised itself upon the ridge- 
pole. ’Sander called from the stone wall, and a 
head appeared from the barn window. The moon 
glittered upon a pair of eye-glasses ; a drawling 
voice inquired what was wanted. 

It’s Taffy ! ” gasped ’Sander. 

I’m taking care of him, you know,” explained 
Taffy languidly. 

“ But — but — they won’t let you ! ” said ’Sander. 

*‘They couldn’t help it. There’s no one to in- 
terfere with me, any way. I’m all alone in the 
world — so I’m the right one to do it, you know. 
Besides, I know how ; my brother was an invalid ; 
we travelled everywhere together ; he — died two 
months ago.” Taffy’s voice was as drawling and 
languid as ever ; Abby Ellen almost thought she 
imagined the break in it. 

“ There are some things that I would like to have 
sent to me. If you have a pencil perhaps you’ll 
write a list.” 

Abby Ellen looked, with a housewifely eye, over 
the list which ’Sander wrote down. 

“ He has thought of everything. What a boy 
he is ! ” she said. 

And the very last fellow that you would have 
expected to do such a thing!” exclaimed ’Sander. 


86 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


And then he swallowed a great lump in his throat. 
“ Abby Ellen, I — I wish’t I’d done it ! ” he said. 

Dr. Ellicott was in a state of nervous irritation 
in which he vowed summary vengeance upon the 
circus proprietors, the town authorities, and the 
teachers, whose negligence had allowed “the last 
representative of a distinguished family, and the 
heir to great wealth,” to risk his life for the sake 
of a circus-rider. He telegraphed to several cities 
, for an experienced smallpox nurse ; but before one 
arrived old Dr. Furber had returned, and allayed 
the great excitement and anxiety by the assurance 
that the patient in Phillips’s barn was only suffer- 
ing from measles. 

Jo mended speedily under the cheering influence 
of this assurance ; but before the day when Deacon 
Baldwin came from Bilberry — farther from home 
than he had ever been in his life before — to seek 
his prodigal son, Jo’s nurse showed symptoms of 
the disease, which he had never had. 

And even Dr. Ellicott approved when he ac- 
cepted Jo’s eager invitation, seconded by Jo’s grate- 
ful father, to go with them to the farm in North 
Bilberry in the health-giving hills. 

“ He’s going to be awfully sick with the measles, 
the doctor says,” ’Sander remarked to Abby Ellen, 
after he had seen the party off on the train. “ But 
— I wish’t I had got ’em the same way ! ” 

On the stone wall, within hail of Phillips’s barn 


JVEW YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. 1 8 / 

’Sander had gained new ideals of life — as new as 
Jo Baldwin’s, who said that a boy who had run 
away and broken his mother’s heart deserved to 
belong to a circus-company ! 

But, after all, Taffy could not have been so very 
ill ; for ’Sander had a letter from him just before 
school closed — in spite of all the differences be- 
tween them an electric spark of sympathy had made 
its way between the stone wall and Phillips’s barn 
— in which this sentence appeared : — 

I expect to be able to go to Grafton to the 
cricket-match next week ; and if Rafe Burton does 
not get over his lameness perhaps I shall be needed 
to help out. I can play a little. I should have said 
so, if the fellows had ever asked me.” 

In the records of Saint Luke’s it is set down, and 
every new boy is told that the cricket-game played 
that year between the Graftons and Saint Luke’s 
was the greatest school-game ever known ; and the 
boy whose cool skill and pluck snatched victory 
from the very jaws of defeat was Tafferton of New 
York. 

Luck had been with the Graftons from the first ; 
they won the first innings, and Grimsby, one of 
their bowlers, had been at an English school and 
had played cricket, according to his own statement, 
“as soon as he was out of long clothes.” They 
had been full of glee when they voted to accept 
Tafferton as a substitute for Burton, whose lame- 


i88 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


ness had increased to a hopeless degree. Measles 
had not improved Taffy’s appearance ; he was very 
thin, and more languid and drawling than ever. 
Lawton and ’Sander Perrigo had overheard the 
Graftons’ prophecy that it would be only too easy 
to wipe out the Saint Lukes’.” Grimsby was what 
little Dick Hallett called a “fearfle” bowler. The 
Saint Lukes’ bails were off their wickets continu- 
ally before they could recover their ground. Taffy 
was so languid at first that ’Sander Perrigo declared 
with a groan to Lawton that he either didn’t know 
how things were going, or couldn’t see an inch be- 
yond his nose. But all at once Taffy straightened 
himself up ; he was a batsman, and he was begin- 
ning to take wonderful aim. Their first innings 
had counted them almost nothing. “ I was a little 
out of practice,” Taffy afterwards explained non- 
chalantly. And besides, I didn’t really think it 
was necessary to make much effort.” 

The notches were almost even ; Lawton had 
kept account ; the last ball would tell. And Taffy 
had had a fall ; no one could say that Gilson 
tripped him — it was too bad a thing to believe of 
a Grafton — but his right arm was doubled under 
him, and he was white in the face when he rose 
and tried to lift it. But he ran with his bat just 
as ’Sander Perrigo tried to catch their last ball and 
unaccountably dropped it — and with tremendous 
force and an unerring aim sent the ball beyond the 


JVEIV YORK BOY WITH THE BILBERRIES. 1 89 


reach of any Grafton fielder, and secured the one 
notch that meant victory. 

Taffy came back to school a little late. He had 
been to New York to see his guardian and been 
delayed there. There were almost as many elegant 
trunks and boxes deposited on the station platform 
as on his first arrival ; but one could scarcely see 
them for the crowd of boys. Bewildered, help- 
lessly-grinning Uncle Simeon was invited to dis- 
mount from his wagon ; and in a trice the horses 
were unhitched, and a throng of boys pushed and 
struggled for the honor of taking their places. Taf- 
ferton himself was borne aloft on the shoulders of 
the tallest boys — ’Sander Perrigo was one of them 
— and up the steep hill to the school went the 
procession with shouts and hurrahs that set wild 
echoes flying among the Eastham hills. 


1 90 BILBERRY BO PR AMD GIRLR, 


CHAPTER XIL 


HOW SANTA CLAUS FOUND THE BILBERRY 
POOR-HOUSE. 

OWADAYS Bilberry is proud of its poor- 



house. And since the town has become 
a summer resort, the path that is shovelled for 
Santa Claus has to be wide enough for a big ex- 
press-wagon. But what I am going to tell you hap- 
pened long ago, and was the very first time the 
dear old saint ever got there. 

Heliogabalus was shovelling snow. The snow 
was very deep, and the path from the front door to 
the road was a long one, and the shovel was almost 
as big as Heliogabalus. 

But Gobaly — as everybody called him, for short 
— didn’t give up easily. You might have known 
that he wouldn’t give up easily by one glance at his 
sturdy little figure, his bright, wide-open eyes, his 
firm mouth, and square, prominent chin ; even the 
little, turned-up end of his nose looked resolute. 

Besides, Mrs. Pynchum had told him to shovel 
out the path ; and she had a switch behind the 
wood-shed door, to say nothing of her slipper. 


//OPV SAJVTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. I9I 

Mrs. Pynchum kept the poor-farm, and Gobaly 
was “town’s poor.” The boys sometimes called 
him that, when he went to coast on Pippin Hill or 
to see the skating on the mill-pond ; sometimes, 
too, they made fun of his clothes. But it was only 
the boys who were a great deal bigger than he who 
dared to make fun of Gobaly ; and some of them, 
even, ran when he doubled up his fists. But Me- 
thuselah ! I don’t know what would have become 
of Methuselah if he had not had Gobaly to defend 
him. For he was a delicate little fellow ; “ spindlin’ 
and good for nothin’,” Mrs. Pynchum called him ; 
and he had come to her in a basket — in other 
words, Methuselah was a foundling. 

Mrs. Pynchum “didn’t think much of children 
who came in a basket from nobody knew where. 
It didn’t seem to belong to Bilberry to support him, 
since he didn’t belong to anybody that ever lived 
there, and his keep and his medicine cost more 
than he would ever be worth to anybody.” 

Gobaly’s mother died in the poor-house, and left 
him there, a baby ; she had always lived in the 
town, and so had his father, so of course Gobaly 
had a perfect right there ; and old Dr. Bouncer, 
who was very learned, had said of him that he was 
an uncommonly fine baby, and had named him 
Heliogabalus. 

Besides, he was strong and willing, and did a 
great deal of work. Mrs. Pynchum “ could put up 


192 


BILBERRY BOYS A HD GIRLS. 


with Gobaly.” But Methuselah, she said, was ‘‘a 
thorn in her side.” And now, after being a trial 
all his life, he had a hip disease, which the doctor 
feared was incurable, and which made him more 
troublesome still ! 

But, after all, Mrs. Pynchum wasn’t quite so bad 
as one would have thought from her talk. She 
must have had a soft spot somewhere in her heart ; 
for she put plums in Methuselah’s porridge, now 
that he was ill, and once she had let Gobaly leave 
his wood-chopping to draw him out on his sled. 

I suppose there is a soft spot in everybody’s 
heart, only sometimes it isn’t very easy to find it ; 
and Mrs. Pynchum might not have been so cross if 
she had led an easier life. There were a good 
many queer people in the poor-house, flighty in 
their heads and wearin’ in their ways,” she said, 
and sometimes they must have been trying to 
the patience. 

Once in a great while, indeed, Mrs. Pynchum was 
good-natured ; and then, sometimes for a whole 
evening, the poor-house would seem like home. All 
those who lived there would then sit around the 
fire and roast apples. Mrs. Pynchum would even 
unlock the closet under the back stairs, where there 
was a great bag full of nuts that Sandy Gooding 
and Gobaly had gathered ; and Uncle Sim Perkins 
would tell stories. 

But it happened very unfortunately that Mrs. 


HOfV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 1 93 

Pynchum never had one of her good-natured days 
on Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or any holiday. 
She was sure to say on those days that she was 
“ all tried to pieces.” 

And everybody was frightened and unhappy 
when Mrs. Pynchum was “ all tried to pieces ; ” and 
so that was the reason why Gqbaly’s heart sank as 
he remembered, while he was shovelling the path 
through the snow, that the next day was Christmas. 

Some people from the village went by with a 
Christmas-tree, which they had cut down in the 
woods just beyond the poor-house ; there were 
children in the party, and they called to Gobaly 
and wished him a merry Christmas, and asked him 
if they were going to have a Christmas-tree at his 
house, and expressed great surprise that he wasn’t 
going to hang up his stocking. Then one of the 
children suddenly exclaimed, — 

“ Why, that’s the poor-house ! It’s never Christ- 
mas there ! ” 

Poor Gobaly’ s heart sank still more as he caught 
these words ; and somehow he felt very tired, and 
minded the cold, as he had not thought of minding 
it a moment before, and the snow-bank looked as 
if he could never shovel through it. For though 
Gobaly was stout-hearted, he didn’t like to be re- 
minded that he was town’s poor,” and that Christ- 
mas was nothing to him. 

Just then he caught sight of Methuselah’s little 


194 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS, 


pinched face pressed against the window-pane. 
Methuselah always had, even when he was a baby, 
a worn and pallid face, like a little old man, and 
that was why they called him Methuselah. It was 
cold in the front room, but Methuselah had wrapped 
himself in a piece of an old quilt and stolen into 
that room and to the window, where he could see 
Gobaly shovelling the snow. 

Methuselah was never quite happy when Gobaly 
was out of his sight. 

Gobaly went up to the window. 

“ To-morrow’s Christmas, ’Thusely ! ” he said. 

“ Is it ? Do you s’pose she knows it ? She’ll 
be ‘all tried to pieces,’ won’t she ? ” 

(“ She ” always meant Mrs. Pynchum in the 
poor-house ; nobody there ever spoke of her in any 
other way.) 

Gobaly was sadly afraid that she would, but he 
said, cheerfully, — 

“ May be she won’t. May be she’ll let me take 
you out on my sled ; and one Christmas there was 
turkey and plum-pudding.” 

“ Must have been a good many Christmases ago ; 
I can’t remember it ! ” said Methuselah. “ Some 
folks have ’em every Christmas, Uncle Sim says; 
but perhaps it isn’t true. Gobaly, do you believe 
there really is any Santa Claus, such as Uncle Sim 
tells about, or did he make it all up To be sure, 
he showed me a picture of him.” 


J/OIV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE, 1 95 

“ I know there is,” said Gobaly firmly, “ because 
Fve seen presents that he brought to boys and girls 
in the village.” 

“Then why don’t he ever come here and bring 
us some ? ” said Methuselah, as if a new idea had 
suddenly struck him. “ Do you s’pose it’s because 
we’re worse than any other boys in the world ? 
She says we are, sometimes. Or may be he’s too 
proud to stop at the poor-house.” 

“ Perhaps he can’t find the way,” said Gobaly. 
“ ’Cause it’s a pretty crooked road, you know. Or 
may be he wouldn’t think it was worth the while 
to come so far out of the village just for us ; he 
wouldn’t be going to Squire Bagley’s, because there 
aren’t any children there, and there aren’t any other 
houses on this road.” 

“ I wish we lived where there was a truly Christ- 
mas, like places where Uncle Sim has been ; don’t 
you, Gobaly } May be he makes them all up, 
though ; it seems as if they’re too good to be true.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if you got lots of plums in 
your porridge to-morrow, and perhaps a piece of 
mince-pie. And I’ll ask her to let me take you up 
to Pippin Hill on the sled.” 

Gobaly always showed, the bright side of things 
to Methuselah, and he had become so accustomed 
to looking for a bright side that he could find one 
when you wouldn’t have thought there was any 
there. 


196 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

And whenever he found a very big lump in his 
throat he swallowed it for Methuselah’s sake, and 
pretended that he didn’t see anything in the world 
to cry about. 

He had to go back to his shovelling then ; but 
after he had started he turned back to say, — 

“ When I’m a man, you shall have Christmases, 
’Thusely ! ” 

It was in that way that Gobaly often comforted 
Methuselah. It never seemed to occur to either 
of them that ’Thusely might possibly grow to be a 
man too. 

Gobaly went to work at the snow again as if it 
were not a bit bigger than he was, and he soon had 
a rampart piled up on each side of the path so 
high that he thought it must look like the Chinese 
Wall which Uncle Sim was always telling of. 

As he was digging the very last shovelful of 
snow out of the path, he heard the jingle of sleigh- 
bells and saw the butcher’s wagon, set upon run- 
ners and drawn by a very frisky horse, going in 
the direction of the village. The butcher’s boy 
and three of his comrades occupied the seat, and as 
many more boys were wedged in among the joints 
of meat and heaps of poultry in the back of the 
wagon. They were evidently combining pleasure 
with business in the liveliest manner. 

Coming in the other direction, from the village, 
was a large Newfoundland dog with a basket in his 


HO IV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 1 97 

mouth. Gobaly liked dogs, and he was sure that 
he was acquainted with every one in the village. 
As he was on intimate terms with every big one, 
he knew that this must be a stranger. 

The butcher’s boy was driving recklessly, and 
seemed to think it would be fun to make a sudden 
turn into the drifts through which the dog was 
bounding. The horse, taken by surprise and some- 
what frightened, made a sudden plunge ; and though 
Gobaly could not quite see how it happened, it 
seemed that before the dog had time to get out of 
the way, the sled had gone over him, and he lay 
helpless and howling upon the snow! 

The boys either found it impossible to stop their 
horse, or were too frightened to investigate the ex- 
tent of the mischief they had done ; for they went 
careering on, and left the poor dog to his fate. 

Gobaly was at his side in a moment, patting his 
shaggy black head, calling him “ poor doggie ” and 
good doggie,” and trying to discover how badly 
he was hurt. He came to the conclusion, after a 
thorough examination, that his leg was either broken 
or badly sprained, — and Gobaly was a judge of 
such things. He had once doctored a rooster’s 
lame leg ; and though the rooster was never again 
able to mount a fence, but crowed with diminished 
energy, while his gait was no longer lordly, yet 
he was still able to cheer his heart by fighting the 
three other roosters all at once, and was likely to 


198 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

escape the dinner-pot for a long time to come. 
Gobaly had also successfully treated a kitten with 
a sprained ankle — to say nothing of one whose 
tail the gobbler had nipped off. And he had seen 
the doctor in the village set a puppy’s leg, and had 
carefully watched the operation. 

He helped the dog along toward the house, — 
and it was well that he was a strong and sturdy 
little fellow or he could not have done it, — and 
managed at last to get the poor creature, unob- 
served, into the wood-shed. He was very much 
afraid that Mrs. Pynchum, if she should see him, 
would order him to leave the dog in the road, and 
he knew it would not do to carry him in beside the 
kitchen fire, as he wanted to, for Mrs. Pynchum 
never wanted “a dirty dog in her clean house.” 

Gobaly found it hard to decide whether the bone 
was broken or only out of place, but he made a 
sort of a splint, such as he had seen the doctor use 
upon the puppy’s leg, and then wound soft cloths, 
wet with liniment, about it, and the dog certainly 
seemed relieved, and licked Gobaly’s hand, and 
looked at him with grateful eyes. 

He ventured into the house after a while, and 
beckoned to Methuselah to come out to the wood- 
shed. 

Methuselah was convinced that Santa Claus had 
sent the dog to them as a Christmas present, and 
his delight was unbounded. 



GOBALY AND ’THUSELY. 

Methuselah was convinced that Santa Claus had sent the dog as a 
Christmas present.” 



0 


m 

\ * 
, I 







I/O IV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 1 99 


“ Of course, Santa Claus must have sent him, 
or why would he have come down this lonely road 
all by himself ? And you will cure him ” (Methu- 
selah thought there was little that Gobaly couldn’t 
do if he tried), “ and perhaps she will let us keep 
him ! " 

But a sudden recollection had struck Gobaly. 
The dog had been carrying a basket in his mouth ; 
there might be something in it that would tell 
where he came from. 

Though the dog’s appearance was mysterious, 
Gobaly was not so ready as Methuselah to accept 
the Santa Claus theory. 

He ran out and found the basket, half buried in 
the snow, where it had fallen from the dog’s mouth. 
There were several letters and papers in it ad- 
dressed to “ Dr. Carruthers, care of Richard Bag- 
ley, Esq.” 

Dr. Carruthers was the famous New York physi- 
cian who was visiting Squire Bagley. Gobaly had 
heard the people in the village talking about him. 
The dog probably belonged to him, and had been 
sent to the post-office for his letters. 

Although he had not really believed that Santa 
Claus sent the dog, Gobaly did feel a pang of dis- 
appointment that they must part with him so soon. 
But then, Mrs. Pynchum would probably not have 
allowed them to keep him anyhow, and she might 
have had him shot because his leg was hurt. That 


200 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


thought consoled Gobaly ; and having obtained Mrs. 
Pynchum’s permission to carry him to his master, 
— which was readily given, since it was the easiest 
way to get rid of the dog, — he put a very large 
box, with a bed in it made of straw and soft cloth, 
upon his sled, and then lifted the dog gently into 
the box. The dog whined with pain when he was 
moved, but still licked Gobaly’s hand, as if he un- 
derstood that he was his friend and did not mean 
to hurt him. 

Methuselah stood in the shed door, and looked 
after them, weeping, sadly making up his mind 
that Santa Claus was proud and would never come 
to the poor-house. 

Gobaly had never been even inside Squire Bag- 
ley’s gate before, and he went up to one of the 
back doors with fear and trembling ; the servants 
at Squire Bagley’s were said to be “ stuck-up,” and 
they might not be very civil to “ town’s poor.” 
But at the sight of the dog they raised a great cry, 
and at once ushered Gobaly into the presence of 
Squire Bagley and Dr. Carruthers, that he might 
tell them all he knew about the accident. 

Dr. Carruthers was a big, jolly -looking man, with 
white hair and a long white beard, just like pic- 
tures of Santa Claus.. Gobaly was sure that Me- 
thuselah would think he was Santa Claus if he 
could see him. He evidently felt very sorry about 
the dog’s accident, and pitied him and petted him 


HOfV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 201 


as if he were a baby ; Gobaly, who had never had 
so much petting in his whole life, thought the dog 
ought to forget all about his leg. 

And then he suddenly turned to Gobaly and 
asked him who set the leg. Gobaly answered 
modestly, that he “fixed it as well as he could 
because there wasn’t anybody else around.” • 

“ How did you know how } ” asked the doctor. 
And Gobaly related his experiences with the 
rooster and the kitten and the puppy. Dr. Car- 
ruthers looked at him steadily out of a pair of eyes 
that were very sharp, although very kind. He 
turned to Squire Bagley, and said, “ An uncommon 
boy.” And they talked together in a low tone, 
casting an occasional glance at Gobaly. 

How Gobaly’ s ears did burn ! He wondered 
what Squire Bagley knew about him, and he 
thought of every prank he ever had played in his 
life. Gobaly was an unusually good boy ; but he 
had played a few pranks, — being a boy, — and he 
thought they were a great deal worse than they 
really were, because Mrs. Pynchum said so. And 
he imagined that Dr. Carruthers was hearing all 
about them, and would presently turn round and 
say that such a bad boy had no right to touch 
his dog, and that such conduct was just what he 
should expect of “town’s poor.” But instead of 
that, after several minutes’ conversation with Squire 
Bagley, he turned to Gobaly, and said, — 


202 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


I want an office-boy, and I think you are just 
the boy to suit me. How would you like to come 
and live with me, and, perhaps, one of these days, 
be a doctor yourself ” 

Gobaly caught his breath. 

To go aWay from Mrs. Pynchum ; not to be 
“town’s poor” any more ; to learn to be a doctor! 
He had said once in Mrs. Pynchum’s hearing that 
he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up ; and 
she had said, sneeringly, that the “town’s poor 
weren’t very likely to get a chance to learn to be 
doctors.” 

And now the chance had come to him I Gobaly 
thought it seemed too much like heaven to be any- 
thing that could happen to a mortal boy I 

“Well, would you like to go? ” asked the doctor 
again, as Gobaly could find no words to answer. 

“ Would I, sir ? Wouldnt I ! ” said Gobaly, with 
a radiant face. 

“ Well, then, I will make an arrangement with 
the selectmen, — which I have no doubt it will 
be easy to do, — and will take you home with me 
to-morrow night,” said the good doctor. 

But the brightness had suddenly faded from 
Gobaly’s face. He stood with his hands thrust 
into his trousers pockets, gazing irresolutely at 
the carpet. 

But it was not the carpet that Gobaly saw ; it 
might as well have been the yellow paint of the 


J/OJV SANTA ROUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 203 

poor-house floors for all that he noticed of its lux- 
urious pile and beautiful colors. It was ’Thusely’s 
pale, pinched little face that he saw ! It had risen 
before him even while the doctor was speaking. 
If he went away, who would take care of ’Thusely I 
And ’Thusely’s heart would be broken. 

I can’t go, sir ; I forgot. No — no — I can’t 
go ! ” said Gobaly. 

Oh, what a lump there was in his throat ! He 
had swallowed many a lump for ’Thusely’s sake, 
but that was the very biggest one ! 

And then he turned and ran out of the house 
without any ceremony. He knew it was rude, but 
that lump wouldn’t stay down ; and though he 
might be called “ town’s poor,” he wasn’t going to 
be called a cry-baby ! 

And home he ran, as fast as his legs would 
carry him. 

That night something very unusual happened. 
Mrs. Pynchum went to the village to a Christmas 
festival. She went before dark, and the spirits of 
everybody in the poor-house rose as soon as she 
was out of sight. Mr. Pynchum piled great logs up- 
on the fireplace, till there was such a roaring fire 
as had not been seen there for many a long day ; 
and he told Joe Golightly and Gobaly to go down 
cellar and bring up as many apples as they wanted 
to, and he found the key of the closet where the bag 
of nuts was kept! And Sandy Gooding brought 


204 


BILBERRY BOYS AND. GIRLS. 


out some fine pop-corn that he had saved up ; and 
Joe Golightly brought out his violin, which, though 
some of its strings were broken and its voice was 
a little cracked and wheezy, could yet cheer one 
up wonderfully with Bonnie Dundee ” and “ The 
Campbells are Coming.” Everybody was merry, 

— although there was no Christmas-tree, and no- 
body had a present except ’Thusely, who had a big 
red peppermint-drop that Gobaly bought him with 
a penny hoarded for six weeks, — and it would 
have been a very pleasant evening if there had 
not been one great drawback. Mrs. Pynchum had 
a way of pouncing upon people when they least 
expected her. If a window rattled or a mouse 
stirred in the wall, a hush fell upon the mirth, and 
everybody shrank with dread. It would be so like 
Mrs. Pynchum to suspect that they were having 
a good time, and turn back to put a stop to it 
before she had fairly reached the festival ! 

Just as they had poured out a popperful of corn, 

— popped out so big and white that it would do you 
good to see it, — and Uncle Sim was clearing his 
throat to begin a story, there came a loud knock 
at the door. Everybody jumped. Mr. Pynchum 
and Sandy began to cram the apples into their 
pockets, and thrust the corn-popper into a closet, 
and Joe hid his violin under his coat-tails. It took 
them all fully two minutes to remember that Mrs. 
Pynchum never knocked. 


I/O IV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 20 $ 


Mr. Pynchum sat down again, and said, in a tone 
of surprise, as if he had not been in the least 
agitated, — 

’ “ What is the matter with you all ? Gobaly, open 
the door ! ” 

Gobaly opened the door, and who should be there 
but Squire Bagley and the city doctor ! 

The moment ’Thusely saw Dr. Carruthers he 
called out, Santa Claus ! " And the big doctor 
laughed, and took a great package of candy out 
of his pocket and gave it to ’Thusely. 

After that it was of no use for Gobaly to whis- 
per, “The dog gentleman!” in ’Thusely’s ear; he 
couldn’t think it was anybody but Santa Claus. 

“ I’m so glad you’ve come ! ” he said confi- 
dentially. “And you look just like your picture. 
And I don’t see why you never came before, 
for you don’t seem proud. And we aren’t such 
very bad boys ; anyway, Gobaly isn’t. Don’t 
you believe what Mrs. Pynchum tells you ? — Wi// 
you ? ” 

The doctor laughed, and said he was getting to 
be an old fellow, and the snow was deep, and it 
was hard for him to get about ; but he was sorry 
he hadn’t come before, for he thought they did 
look like good boys. Then he asked Methuselah 
about his lameness and the pain in his side, and 
said he ought to be sent to a certain hospital in 
New York, where he might be cured. And then 


206 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


he asked him particularly if he had any relatives 
or friends. 

‘‘ Fve got Gobaly," said ’Thusely. 

The doctor turned, and looked sharply at Gobaly. 

Is he the reason why you wouldn’t go with 
me ” he asked. 

“ He’s such a little chap, and I’m all he’s got,” 
said Gobaly. 

The doctor took out his handkerchief (it was 
bad weather for colds) and said, “ Suppose I take 
him too } ” 

This time the lump in his throat fairly got the 
better of Gobaly ! 

But ’Thusely clapped his hands for joy. He 
didn’t understand what was to happen, only that 
Santa Claus was to take him somewhere with 
Gobaly ; and one thing that ’Thusely was sure of 
was that he wanted to go wherever Gobaly went. 
And he kept saying, — 

told you that Santa Claus sent the dog, — 
now, didn’t I, Gobaly 

Methuselah went to the hospital and was cured ; 
and Gobaly, — well, if I should tell you his name, 
you might say that you had heard of him as a 
famous surgeon-doctor. I think it is probable that 
he could now make a lame rooster, or a kitten 
with a sprained ankle, just as good as new ; and I 
am sure he wouldn’t be above trying, for he has 


//OlV SANTA FOUND THE POOR-HOUSE. 20J 


a heart big enough to sympathize with any creature 
that suffers. 

There is at least one person in the world who 
will agree with me ; and that is a gentleman who 
was once a miserable little cripple in a poor-house, 
and was called Methuselah. 


208 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 

HE boys sometimes explained that he was 



A called Peter the Great to distinguish him 
from another Peter in school ; but as the other 
Peter was always called Taffy, of course that was 
unnecessary. Tafferton, of New York, he was — 
the other Peter — with an off-hand manner and a 
liberal supply of pocket-money. He had also a 
great many kid gloves, of which the boys were 
scornful, and a fortnightly box of most delectable 
goodies from home, which was of itself calculated 
to inspire a certain respect for a boy. 

Taffy wore kid gloves, and carried a small cane ; 
and the fact that he possessed his cane and his kid 
gloves in peace in Saint Luke’s School at Eastham 
was the strongest possible proof of his popularity. 
There had been a boy — Brown, from Boston — 
who wrote a poem, its metre only a little less 
weak than its French, in which Taffy’s locks were 
not too obscurely alluded to as “ Miss Nancy’s 
chevatixy But the Brown boy had not a strong 
constitution, and he left in the middle of the term. 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 2O9 

Peter the Great was a boy of an altogether dif- 
ferent sort from Taffy. His home was a farm 
somewhere in the wilds of Maine. He had a large, 
awkward figure and a shuffling gait ; his hair would 
not look as if it were combed even when the boys 
hadn’t stuck burdocks into it, and his hands and 
feet were dreadfully in his way ; they stuck so far 
out of his jackets and trousers that one could see 
his coarse underwear and the blue yarn stockings 
which his sister Charlizzy had knit for him. All 
these things Peter could have borne ; although at 
the fortnightly receptions — all the boys hated 
those receptions — he thought that every girl who 
giggled behind her fan was giggling at him. Girls 
didn’t count, after all, since they only lasted through 
the reception, and then a boy was happily rid of 
them. If they had been girls like his sister Char- 
lizzy, he would not have been so dreadfully embar- 
rassed for something to say to them. Charlizzy 
never had a fan or went to a reception. 

Peter the Great could say to himself that these 
things were small ; it would have mattered little to 
him that he was slow and awkward of body and 
speech if only his wits had been nimble. But — 
poor Peter ! - - if dunce-caps had been in use at 
Saint Luke’s, the boys would almost never have 
had an opportunity to stick burdocks in his hair. 
He tried to learn — there was scarcely a boy in 
the school who studied so hard — and often he 


210 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


thought he knew his lesson, but his memory would 
play him a trick just in the nick of time. 

Sometimes Peter almost doubted whether he 
ought to be grateful to his uncle Ebenezer, who was 
paying his tuition at Saint Luke’s in order that he 
might be a physician, like his grandfather. Peter 
wanted to be a doctor ; he meant to be ; but he 
thought there must be a shorter cut to that goal 
than over the pons asinorum and through the dreary 
mazes of Latin declensions. 

It seemed too much that, with all his other trou- 
bles, Peter should have the mumps in the Christ- 
mas holidays, and on both sides at once, and be so 
ill that the doctor positively forbade his going 
home. North Bilberry being twenty miles off the 
railroad, and the weather bitterly cold. To go 
home was what he had dreamed of so long. They 
had never seemed to discover there how stupid 
he was ; in fact, his mother and Charlizzy greatly 
admired him. 

Peter Tafferton was to stay at school through the 
holidays also, and very wroth he was about it. His 
guardian’s family had gone to Europe ; but it had 
been decided at the last moment that Peter would 
be safer at school than with the boy who had invited 
him home with him. There were three other boys 
left over for the holidays — Speckler, whose home 
was in the Sandwich Islands ; little Claude Damon, 
an orphan, with an aunt who disapproved of holi- 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 21 1 


days ; and Jo Wingate, whose father was a mission- 
ary bishop. 

“ If that lout Peter the Great were not in bed, 
we might have some fun with him,” said Taffy re- 
gretfully. 

‘‘He’s got the mumps awfully,” said Jo Win- 
gate, not without a pang of sympathy. “ There’s 
such a lot of him to have ’em, you know.” 

But by this time Peter had a heavier trouble to 
bear than either mumps or homesickness. Dr. El- 
licott had seized the opportunity when he thought 
homesickness might help him to take it easily 
to tell him that he had come to the conclu- 
sion that — well, in plain terms, that he might as 
well give up trying to get an education, and go 
back to the farm for good. The Doctor was a 
kind man, and he said it kindly ; but to poor Peter 
it seemed as if the universe had tumbled about his 
ears. Not his universe alone ; but his father’s and 
mother’s and Charlizzy’s, or even little Ebenezer’s ; 
for it had been one of their great plans at home 
that he should help little Ebenezer along. And he 
must be a doctor or a surgeon. Peter had felt that 
almost ever since he could remember ; at least, ever 
since he successfully set the white kitten’s broken 
leg, and extracted a fish-hook from Trip’s jaw. 

Good Dr. Ellicott sent Kitty, his fifteen-year-old 
daughter, whose apple cheeks and baby-blue eyes 
were seldom seen in the boys’ domains, to Peter’s 


212 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


room with a red Christmas rose off her own bush, 
a bunch of holly, and some ruby jelly and whipped 
cream in a dainty dish. He remembered that 
“ something sweet in the mouth can sweeten all 
the bitter world for a boy.” 

But he did not know Peter the Great. Peter 
colored so that even his big ear.s were scarlet ; and 
turned his face to the wall, away from Kitty’s pity- 
ing lisp and her jelly. 

The Doctor blew his nose vigorously when he 
heard Kitty’s account of her visit. 

“ He’ll be able to get up by to-morrow. Dr. Fur- 
ber says, and we must have him down here, and — 
and cheer him up.” 

The Doctor was aware that he didn’t know how 
to cheer Peter up. He didn’t understand him, but 
perhaps his wife or Mildred and Kitty would. But 
that very afternoon there came a letter from Char- 
lizzy, which was at least more effectual as a com- 
forter than Kitty’s jelly. 

“ I take my pen in hand to write you a few lines ” [wrote 
Charlizzy, and it was evident that it had been hard work 
for her. Charlizzy’s tongue was glib enough — how it 
would have run if she could have seen Peter ! — but she 
had not the pen of a ready writer. You see, she could never 
be spared for the summer school ; and she had two miles to 
go, and in winter the drifts were often over her head]. “ I 
write this to let you know that we are all in good health and 
the pig is killed and has made beautiful sausages and we 
hope you are enjoying the same blessing. We had to turn 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 213 


all the turkeys for flour and molasses except the ugly old 
gobbler we hope to keep that because the minister is board- 
ing here, we hope he isn’t tuff father is hauling logs and 
your Guinea-hens lay five eggs a day eggs are twenty-five 
cents a dozen at the store and old mrs. fowler is dead. 
Johnny wing caught a fox but he got away father got a 
good price for the pork little Ebenezer says he would have 
one side of your mumps for you and mother and I would 
have them all and more too So no more from your loving 
sister. “ Charlotte Elizabeth Judkins.” 

“ P. S. — This is to let you know that I am down at 
Uncle Abner’s mother thought of it Young Abner is 
going down to Eastham to market day after to-morrow and 
I am going with him Aunt abner has let me cook and I 
have made lots of things for you I know they will taste 
real good to you because you always do like my victuals. 

“ Charlizzy.” 

Peter’s heart warmed. How good it would be 
to see Charlizzy’s dear homely face ! Her nose was 
a snub, and she had freckles, and her head was not 
stylish like the heads of the Eastham girls ; but 
Peter saw nothing to be desired in her looks. He 
tucked Charlizzy’s letter under his pillow, and felt 
that it made the pain easier to bear. 

Little Claude Damon saw the letter sticking out 
from under the pillow when he went, instigated by 
Dr. Ellicott, to make polite inquiries in behalf of 
the boys. Peter turned his back upon little Damon 
as he had upon Kitty, and little Damon pulled the 
letter softly out and carried it off to the boys. Pep 


214 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

haps it might help them to have some fun with 
Peter the Great. Perhaps little Damon didn’t re- 
alize quite how mean he was ; for he was only 
nine, and had never known what it was to have 
a mother. Tafferton realized, but he couldn’t re- 
sist the temptation to have some fun at Peter’s 
expense. 

There was a great shouting in the hall, and Peter 
heard it for some time without discovering what it 
meant. At length he caught a word, — Charlizzy’s 
name. 

“ I say, fellows, this is rich ! ” cried Tafferton’s 
voice. “ She hopes he has been made into sau- 
sages, and she hopes the minister isn’t tough ! ” 

Peter groped in bewilderment for his letter, and 
found it gone. He sprang out of bed, and rushed 
down-stairs, his eyes flashing from his swollen face, 
and the strength of ten in his arm in spite of the 
mumps. He snatched the letter from Taffy, and 
knocked him down with one well-delivered blow. 
Taffy’s allies fled, but Taffy called after him, — 

“ I’d thrash you, if you weren’t ill! I’ll pay you 
up, anyway I ” 

In spite of his bold front Taffy was inwardly 
quaking and ashamed. He expected that Dr. Elli- 
cott would hear about the letter, and the doctor 
would be very severe about a meanness like that. 
Little Damon hid himself under his bed ; and Jo 
Wingate, who had laughed louder than all the 


THE BO Y FROM NORTH BILB ERR Y. 2 1 5 

Others, said he was glad he hadn’t had anything to 
do with such a mean trick. It was not the flower 
of Saint Luke’s school that had been left there for 
the holidays. But Dr. Ellicott heard nothing of 
the matter ; for Peter was no tale-bearer, and by the 
next morning the boys had forgotten their fears, 
and were readier than ever for ‘^a lark.” Peter 
was dressed, and, very much embarrassed by the 
honor, was ensconced in an easy-chair in Dr. El- 
licott’s sitting-room. Charlizzy was coming ; he 
could think of nothing else. He was not ashamed 
of her, by any means ; he was not ashamed of that 
letter, with all its homely details and the little 
slips which the boys thought so funny. Not one 
of them, thought Peter, would have done so well 
as that with only Charlizzy’s opportunities ; there 
was only one word spelled wrong, and Charlizzy 
knew better than “tuff;” it was only anxiety about 
the gobbler’s condition that had made her spell like 
that. 

Peter sat at Dr. Ellicott’s window, and looked 
eagerly out into the snowy street. There were 
Christmas wreaths in all the windows, and a bustle 
of expectancy about the passers-by. It was the 
day before Christmas. Young Abner must come 
early to market with his goods. Uncle Abner 
lived twenty miles away ; they must have started 
in the night. 

In fact, young Abner had slept, figuratively, with 


2i6 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


one eye open, and literally, with his alarm-clock at 
his ear, and Charlizzy had only one or two cat naps, 
and was up and dressed when, at three o’clock, 
young Abner’s alarm went off. Young Abner had 
the great pung laden with barrels of chickens and 
turkeys, great yellow pumpkins and squashes, and 
bunches of celery and trimmings of evergreen im- 
parted a festal appearance. It was very cold, and 
Charlizzy put a heated brick at her feet, and an- 
other in the huge, old-fashioned muff which Aunt 
Abner lent her ; and she also wore Aunt Abner’s 
old pumpkin hood, made of brown merino and 
wadded with cotton, for Aunt Abner said there 
was nothing like a pumpkin hood to keep out the 
cold. Charlizzy didn’t think much about appear- 
ances ; they didn’t in North Bilberry. 

Young Abner had to go to market first of all, 
though Charlizzy was impatient to get to Peter. 
Young Abner had to sell the last barrel of chick- 
ens in pairs, and Charlizzy thought they never 
would go. When there was only about half a bar- 
rel left, and a few squashes and bunches of celery, 
young Abner said that, considering prices, they 
had done very well, and he wanted his breakfast. 
Charlizzy demurred at the breakfast ; young Ab- 
ner had met an old friend, and they were likely to 
spend a long time at it. 

‘‘Well, I’ll drive you over to the school first,” 
said young Abner good-naturedly ; “ and I’ll leave 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 21 / 

the team there. I shall feel safer about leaving it 
in that quiet street.” 

So it happened that Peter had not been looking 
out of Dr. Ellicott’s window for more than twenty 
minutes, when down the street with a great jin- 
gling of bells came the pung, Charlizzy behind Aunt 
Abner’s huge yellow muff, her freckled, rosy face 
beaming from the depths of the ancient pumpkin 
hood. 

Young Abner hitched the horse, and hurried off 
down a side street to his belated breakfast. As 
Peter was hurrying to the door, he heard a great 
shouting and laughing. Perhaps Charlizzy did look 
a little funny and old-fashioned ; as I said before, 
they thought but little of looks in North Bilberry. 
As the servant opened the door, Peter saw Stuy- 
vesant unhitch the horse and mount the pung seat, 
followed by the shouting, jeering boys (they had 
all been lying in wait behind the garden wall for 
Charlizzy’s appearance). Charlizzy was greatly ex- 
cited ; she dropped the great muff, and seized the 
brick in it for a weapon. She called angrily to 
them to stop, and tried to snatch the horse’s reins 
from Stuyvesant’s hands. Failing in these efforts, 
she clung to the pung, partially lifting herself in 
at the back, and hanging on resolutely, as the 
horse dashed wildly off, terrified by the noise that 
the boys made. It was a part of the bringing up 
in North Bilberry to learn to hang on to one’s re- 


2I8 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


sponsibilities ; no one could carry off that pung 
without ‘carrying Charlizzy too. 

It was wonderful to see how soon those boys 
discovered the basket under the seat. Charlizzy’s 
doughnuts flew through the air, and were picked 
up by the crowd of street urchins, which was soon 
in delighted pursuit of the pung. The chicken-pie, 
Charlizzy’s flakiest effort, intended to cheer Peter’s 
convalescence, became the cause of a lively dog- 
fight, which added to the excitement caused by the 
wild career of the pung. Jo Wingate and little 
Damon crammed their pockets with the frosted 
cakes; and in his efforts to get at the jam, Speck- 
ler broke the bottle, and the jam trailed its red 
way along the snow. 

Charlizzy appealed to the people in the streets 
for help, but no one seemed inclined to interfere. 
“ Some boys on a frolic, that’s all,” she heard one 
man say. And the few policemen that East- 
ham boasted were in the business streets on that 
day. 

They were getting out toward the suburbs now, 
with the crowd of hooting boys still following them. 
The barrels were tipped over, and the great squashes 
went bouncing out. Charlizzy had all that she could 
do to keep the chickens from going too. Taffy 
leaned over the seat, and tossed a pair of chickens 
out to the crowd ; the shout that arose terrified 
the horse anew, and Stuyvesant had lost his firm 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 219 

hold of the reins. He attempted to turn a corner 
where repairs had been made, and the workmen had 
left some heavy stone to be partially covered by the 
snow. The horse had just reared and plunged in 
his fright. Taffy struck him with the whip ; he 
dashed too sharply around the corner, and over 
went the pung. Charlizzy had dropped off just in 
time. Jo Wingate raised his head from a snow- 
drift, and said that they ought to keep those chick- 
ens to roast ; and little Damon set up a piteous 
howl that he might have been killed, and had lost 
his cakes anyhow ; and Speckler said he wished he 
hadn’t come. But Taffy had fallen on the stone, 
and he lay quite still ; and in a moment some one 
cried out that the snow beneath him was growing 
red. 

There was a house near by ; and they carried 
him into it, while some men went in pursuit of the 
horse, which had dashed off with the pung. 

Peter had rushed out of the house when he saw 
the seizure of the pung, heedless that he had no 
overcoat, and nothing on his head but the ban- 
dage that covered his swollen cheeks. The doctor 
saw him go, and had seen enough of the previous 
proceedings to guess what had happened. He fol- 
lowed, too, but waited to put on his overcoat and 
hat ; and he took a heavy shawl to wrap that reck- 
less boy Peter in, if he could catch him. 

Peter ran on ; he ran fast, although he felt faint 


220 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


and giddy. Charlizzy was in that pung. Of course 
he could not overtake the pung, — it was soon out 
of sight, — but he traced its course by the crowds 
and the scattered provisions. The doctor had hap- 
pily met a friend with a horse and sleigh, which he 
borrowed, and it was not long before he overtook 
Peter, and got him into the sleigh, with severe rep- 
rimands for his carelessness. Just as Taffy was 
carried into the house. Dr. Ellicott’s sleigh drove 
up. Peter saw a pumpkin hood in a window of the 
house, and drew a long, long breath. 

They went into the house ; and there lay Taffy 
with a white face, but conscious, and with his eyes 
open. 

“A sharp stone cut his leg, and he’s losing a 
great deal of blood,” said a man. 

Dr. Ellicott sent a man in haste for a physician. 

Peter sprang forward. “ Here you, Charlizzy, 
you know how to help me. Make a tourniquet,” 
he cried quickly. 

Every one gave way to him, although he was 
only a boy. He worked deftly, and in a few min- 
utes the dangerous stream had ceased to flow. But 
Taffy groaned with the pain which the slightest 
movement caused him. 

Pm afraid he’s got some broken bones about 
his shoulder,” said a bystander. 

“Not broken; only dislocated,” said Peter, with 
authority, as he touched the shoulder. “ Now try 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 221 


to bear it, Tafferton ! It will be only a moment. 
I can replace the bone.” 

There was a kind of snap that every one heard, 
with a little cry from Tafferton. 

“That’s all ! He’ll do perfectly well now,” said 
Peter, with a professional air. 

“ A smart boy, that ! ” said a gentleman. 

“ Ah — ahem ! — yes, quite so,” said Dr. Ellicott, 
in a bewildered way. 

The doctor, when he arrived, repeated that re- 
mark about Peter’s “smartness.” He said Taffer- 
ton might have bled to death if it had not been for 
him. And it was remarkable that a boy should set 
a bone like that. 

“I — I s’pose I should have been a goner if it 
hadn’t been for you,” stammered Tafferton, as 
Peter was leaving him ; for the doctor had said that 
he must not be moved, and Dr. Ellicott was to send 
a nurse. “ I’ve been a mean fellow, an awfully 
mean fellow, and you — well, I guess it was more 
appropriate than we thought when we named you 
Peter the Great. And that sister of yours has a 
lot of pluck. I never saw such a girl. I — I say, 
I can pay the damages, but that isn’t much ; and 
I’ll try to make up, if I can ; and if ever you could 
feel like being friends ” — 

Peter shook his hand heartily, and it was only 
Taffy who was embarrassed. Peter was, for once, 
master of the situation. 


222 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Dr. Ellicott sent for him into his study early in 
the evening. I’ve been thinking, Judkins, that 
perhaps I was a little hasty in that matter that we 
were speaking of. There is a force of character 
that tells even when a boy isn’t — well, isn’t very 
quick. With that, and a talent to be developed, he 
is likely to succeed.” The doctor blew his nose, 
and then he was afraid he had been too soft. “ But 
you’ll have to dig if you stay here, — you’ll have to 
dig, sir ! ” 

Peter went up-stairs and told Charlizzy all about 
it, and she cried and laughed in a breath. Char- 
lizzy had not gone back with young Abner, who 
had recovered his horse and pung, and been libe- 
rally paid for his losses by Dr. Ellicott, in Taffy’s 
name, Mrs. Ellicott had invited her to stay for a 
Christmas party which Kitty was to give. They 
had dressed her in one of Kitty’s dresses, and they 
had covered the places where they had had to nip 
and tuck it to make it fit with flowers and ribbons ; 
and she had a fan — a pink one, with feathers. 
She was radiant over it, and insisted that Peter 
should admire it. Charlizzy liked a party and a 
fan just like any girl. But she would go home just 
as contentedly in the pumpkin hood to-morrow. 

The choir boys were out singing Christmas car- 
ols, and Kitty sent them to sing under Peter’s 
window. 

“ It’s Christmas,” said Charlizzy. “ I had almost 


THE BOY FROM NORTH BILBERRY. 223 

forgotten, though it seems like it, doesn’t it ? Lis- 
ten, Peter ! ” 

The old, old carol had never been heard in North 
Bilberry ; it thrilled Charlizzy’s heart : — 

God rest you, merry gentlemen, 

Let nothing you dismay. 

For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, King, 

Was born on Christmas Day. 

“ ‘ Let nothing you dismay,’ ” hummed Charlizzy 
lightly, but with sparkles on her lashes. 

Peter swallowed a happy sob, and set his teeth 
firmly together. 

I don’t know what to think of you, Taffer- 
ton,” said Dr. Ellicott when he had Taffy cornered 
in his study, for reproof. “ You behaved nobly and 
bravely once, when a boy was supposed to have the 
small-pox. That was when you first came here. 
And now — I hope I shall not be forced to think 
that the atmosphere of Saint Luke’s has had an 
unfavorable influence on your character.” 

“ No, sir, I think not,” said Taffy, with an air of 
sage reflection. That, you see, sir, was earnest, 
and this seemed to be fun. It didn’t turn out quite 
as I expected — and — and I’m awfully ashamed, 
though I know that doesn’t do any good.” 

“ It is an advantage to know the difference be- 
tween fun and earnest, in this world,” said the 
doctor dryly ; “ and it is a very wholesome thing 
to be ashamed.” 


224 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A DAGHESTAN PATTERN .* HOW A BILBERRY GIRL WAS 
A RUG-MAKER AND A PEACE-MAKER. 

P HCEBE JANE BRECK hung the little rug 
over the arm of the old haircloth rocking- 
chair, and Mrs. Ponsonby Ten Broeck gazed at it 
critically. 

“ It’s a real Daghestan pattern,” said the great 
lady, who was a summer visitor at Bilberry, and 
Phoebe Jane colored high with pride and pleasure. 
Being only fifteen years old, and not the capable 
one of the family, it was a great satisfaction to 
have her handiwork admired by a lady from New 
York. 

“You really have a knack at rug-making,” said 
Phoebe Jane’s older sister Eunice, when the visi- 
tor’s carriage had gone. It was at that very mo- 
ment, while Phoebe Jane was washing the best thin 
glass tumbler in which the lady had drank her 
cream, that a great idea came to her. 

She did not tell Eunice at once ; Eunice was 
trying to trim Pauliny Jordan’s bonnet “kind of 
subdued,” according to that lady’s injunctions, as 


A DAGHESTAN PATTERN 


225 


she was coming out with new false teeth, and was 
anxious not to look too “ flighty.” When Eunice 
had something on her mind, was not the time to 
talk to her. Besides, it was such a great idea that 
it almost took Phoebe Jane’s breath away. 

If she could have told her Cousin Luella, that 
would have been a comfort. Luella went to the 
Oakmount Female Seminary, and knew almost 
everything ; but Luella and she were forbidden to 
speak to each other, because her father and Luella’s 
mother. Aunt Cynthia, had quarrelled long ago. 

Aunt Cynthia’s boys, Jerome and Albion, and 
Phoebe Jane’s brother, Llewellyn, had always 
scowled at each other ; but Phoebe Jane and Luella 
had wanted to be friends ever since the day when 
Luella’s buff kitten got lost in Horner’s woods, 
and Phoebe Jane climbed a tall tree, in the top of 
which it was mewing piteously, and restored it to 
its mistress’s arms. 

That had happened long ago, when they were 
little girls ; but ever since, they had known them- 
selves to be congenial spirits. So Phoebe Jane 
longed to ask Luella’s advice about her bright idea. 
But as that could not be, she allowed it to rest 
a while in her eager brain, and then proceeded 
forthwith to develop it. 

Phoebe Jane stole softly into “ the shepherdess 
room ” — they called it so because the old-fashioned 
paper on the walls was covered with shepherdesses 


226 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


with their crooks and their flocks of sheep. It 
was the best room, the parlor ; but although Phoebe 
Jane’s father and mother had lived in that house 
ever since they were married, the room had never 
been furnished. 

They had always been planning to furnish it ; 
that had been one of Phoebe Jane’s mother’s hopes 
as long as she lived, and now Eunice, whenever 
she was able to save a little money, said that some- 
time, perhaps, they could furnish the parlor. 

Eunice had made a beautiful lounge for it out 
of an old packing-case ; and Mrs. Tisbury, when 
she moved to Orland, had left them her base-burner 
stove to use until she wanted it. But Eunice 
said the great difficulty was the carpet — it was 
such a large room. 

Phoebe Jane stood in the middle of the room, 
and surveyed it with a measuring eye. 

“ Llewellyn will paint the edges for me,” she 
meditated, and it is very stylish to leave half a 
yard all ’round.” 

“ Then we could have the choir rehearsals here,” 
said Phoebe Jane aloud to herself. 

The choir rehearsals were held in the church be- 
fore the service on Sunday mornings, which was a 
very inconvenient time for those singers who lived 
away up beyond Pippin Hill or down at Wood End. 
These rehearsals seemed a little like profaning the 
Sabbath, too, to some of the singers ; and, any 


A DAGHESTAN PATTERN 


227 


way, it was not pleasant and social, as it would be 
to have them in the evening. But it cost too 
much to he.at or even to light the church for even- 
ing rehearsals ; it was a large, old-fashioned church, 
and Bilberry was poor. 

The Brecks had a large parlor organ ; it almost 
filled the little sitting-room. Mary Ellen, the sis- 
ter who died, had bought it with her school-teach- 
ing money. No one else in Bilberry had such an 
organ ; and Eunice had often said, with a long sigh, 
‘‘ How delightful it would be to have the choir re- 
hearsals here, if we only had the parlor furnished ! ” 

Phoebe Jane decided that if she had a “knack” 
it was high time she used it to accomplish some- 
thing worth the while, especially as she had an 
uncomfortable sense of not being good for much. 

Eunice was a famous housekeeper, and could trim 
bonnets so well that people preferred her work to 
that of the village milliner. She was so useful in 
sickness that every one sent for her ; and she could 
play beautifully on the organ, too, although she had 
never taken any lessons. 

Even Llewellyn, who was thirteen years old, and 
only a boy, could be trusted to get dinner better 
than Phoebe Jane ; he could draw delightful music 
out of the old fiddle they had found in Grandpa 
Pulsifer’s garret, and could puzzle the schoolmaster 
himself when it came to mathematics. 

Phoebe Jane couldn’t play on anything except 


228 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


a comb, and she was obliged to go to the barn to 
indulge in that musical performance because it 
made Eunice nervous ; she said she could bear it 
if Phoebe Jane could keep a tune. And Phoebe 
Jane was very apt to be at the foot of the class at 
school. 

Never mind ! Mrs. Ponsonby Ten Broeck might 
flatter, but Eunice certainly never did ; and Eunice 
had said that she, Phoebe Jane, had a knack.” 

Phoebe Jane slipped away that afternoon without 
giving any account of herself. She called first on 
old Mrs. Prouty, who had been the Bilberry dress- 
maker for fifty years. Old Mrs. Prouty had the 
reputation of being snug ; ” she had a great store 
of ^‘pieces” in her attic, and she^had never been 
known to give any away, even for a crazy-quilt. 

But she and Phoebe Jane were very intimate. 
Phoebe Jane had brought up Mrs. Prouty’s tender 
brood of turkeys, hatched during a thunder-shower ; 
had always stood up for Ginger, the old lady’s little 
rat -terrier, that was voted a nuisance by the neigh- 
bors, and had twice rescued him from cruel boys. 
Moreover, old Mrs. Prouty’s niece Lorinda sang 
in “the seats,” and longed for evening rehearsals. 

The pile of “ pieces ” in Mrs. Prouty’s attic was 
like a mountain of rainbows, and old Mrs. Prouty 
had so good a memory that she knew to whose 
dress almost every piece had belonged. 

Phoebe Jane made two or three other calls, and 



IN MRS. PROUTY’S ATTIC. 

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A DAGHESTAN PATTERN 229 

before she went home the success of her plan 
seemed assured. 

Eunice said, ‘‘ I don’t see how you’re going to 
make a rug that’s large enough ; ” and “ I hope you 
won’t get tired of it before it’s half-done, as you 
did of the bed-spread you began to crochet.” But 
she helped ; Eunice would always help, though 
she was practical, and saw all the difficulties at 
once. 

Llewellyn got the Trull boys to help him make 
a frame that was large enough, and he helped to 
make the rug too. By dint of hard work it was 
finished and laid upon the parlor floor the first of 
December. As Phoebe Jane said, if you don’t 
believe it was a siege, you’d better try one ! A 
real Daghestan pattern, nine by twelve feet. 

Then, alas ! when the rug was down, and the 
parlor furnished, all the pleasure of the choir re- 
hearsals was spoiled by a church quarrel. It arose, 
as church quarrels and others often do, from what 
seemed a very small thing. 

Old Mrs. Tackaberry, Aunt Cynthia’s mother, 
had the old-fashioned New England habit of sus- 
pending all labor on Saturday evening, and begin- 
ning it again on Sunday evening ; and being a very 
obstinate woman, she wotild knit in the Sunday 
evening prayer-meeting. No matter how loud the 
minister and the members prayed and exhorted, 
no matter how loud the congregation sang, old 


230 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Mrs. Tackaberry’s knitting-needles seemed to click 
above everything ! 

Some people were shocked, and some had their 
nerves affected, while others declared that ‘‘ a 
mother in Israel,” like old Mrs. Tackaberry, should 
be allowed to indulge in such a harmless eccentri- 
city. At this time the church was divided into 
two parties, one insisting that old Mrs. Tackaberry 
should cease to knit or leave, and the other declar- 
ing that if she left, it should leave with her. 

So the church was rent asunder. The support- 
ers of old Mrs. Tackaberry hired the town hall for 
their services, and a young divinity student for 
their minister. The funds that had been barely 
enough for one church were sadly insufficient for 
two, and there was enmity between old friends and 
neighbors. So Phoebe Jane said, with a tearful 
sense of the futility of all human hopes, that there 
was “no comfort in half 2i choir rehearsal.” 

It was old Mrs. Tackaberry who had made the 
trouble between Aunt Cynthia and her brother-in- 
law years before ; so it was not very likely that the 
Brecks would espouse her cause, though Deacon 
Breck, who was a mild and gentle man, and never 
had quarrelled with anybody but Aunt Cynthia in 
his life, — Deacon Breck said he “ wished folks 
could have put up with the knitting, for he be- 
lieved it was conducive to godliness to let some 
folks do as they were a mind to.” 


A DAGHESTAN PATTERN 


231 


As if Phoebe Jane had not had disappointment 
enough, the worst storm of the season came on 
that Saturday night when the choir had been in- 
vited to hold its first rehearsal in the newly fur- 
nished parlor. It was a rain, following a heavy fall 
of snow. The roads were almost impassable, and 
most of the singers lived a long distance from the 
village. 

The town hall was opposite the Brecks’ house ; 
and Phoebe Jane, looking out of the window, saw 
that the choir of the new society was assembling 
in spite of the storm. It was to be a great occa- 
sion with the new society to-morrow ; Jerome, 
Aunt Cynthia’s eldest son, who was a student in 
a theological seminary, was going to preach. 

But a great volume of smoke was pouring out of 
the doors and windows of the hall ; and Llewellyn, 
who had been over to investigate, announced that 
“that old chimney was smoking again, and they 
would have to give up their rehearsal.” Then Lle- 
wellyn, who was a strong partisan, and didn’t like 
Aunt Cynthia’s Jerome, turned a somersault. 

“It is too bad ! ” cried Phoebe Jane, whose soul 
was sympathetic. “ Father — Eunice — dont you 
think we might ask them to come in here } ” 

Father Breck hesitated, rubbing his hands to- 
gether nervously. He said he was afraid people 
would think it was queer, and if any of their choir 
should come it would be awkward. 


232 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Then Eunice suddenly came to the front, as 
Eunice had a way of doing quite unexpectedly. 

“ I think Phoebe Jane has a right to use the par- 
lor as she likes ; she worked so hard for the rug,” 
said Eunice. 

“ Well, well, do as you like, Phoebe Jane. Maybe 
it’s a providential leading,” said Father Breck. 

Phoebe Jane threw her waterproof over her head 
and ran out. There were Aunt Cynthia and Je- 
rome, and with them a professor from Jerome’s 
seminary. Phoebe Jane had a lump in her throat 
when she tried to speak to them ; but behind, oh 
joy! there was Luella. 

<‘If you will come and rehearse in our parlor — 
you know about my rug!” said Phoebe Jane; and 
then she drew her waterproof over her head again 
and ran back. 

There was a consultation evidently. Phoebe 
Jane heard old Mrs. Tackaberry’s voice, and was 
afraid they wouldn’t come. 

But they did ! It seemed almost the whole of 
the new society that came pouring into the parlor ; 
and by that time Viola Treddick and Pitticus and 
Hannah Ann Ramsay of their own choir had come! 

It would have been a little awkward, if old Mrs. 
Tackaberry had not been immediately struck by 
the new rug, and begun to ask questions about it 
with a freedom that made every one laugh. 

Soon they were all talking about it. Phoebe 


A DAGHESTAN PATTERN. 233 

Jane remembered, as she had meant to, where she 
put almost all the “pieces” of which Mrs. Prouty 
had told her the history. 

Old Mrs. Tackaberry cried about the pink delaine 
that was her little granddaughter, Abby Ellen’s, 
who died ; and about the brown thibet that was her 
daughter Amanda’s wedding-dress when she mar- 
ried a missionary and went to China and died 
there. 

Then they all laughed at an arabesque in one 
corner which was Jerome’s yellow flannel dress — 
Phoebe Jane had been a little afraid to tell of 
that, Jerome was so imposing in a white necktie. 
Aunt Cynthia wouldn’t believe that she had let the 
dressmaker make that dress until she remembered 
that it was the time when she scalded her hand. 

People kept coming in. Phoebe Jane had an in- 
spiration, and made Llewellyn go and invite them. 
It became a good old-fashioned neighborhood party 
— “just like a quilting,” old Mrs. Tackaberry said. 
Everybody found some of their “pieces” or their 
relatives’ “ pieces ” in the rug, and smiles and tears 
and innumerable stories grew out of this. 

The new-comers found the two factions appar- 
ently so reconciled that they were surprised out of 
any animosity that they might have felt ; and when 
they came to rehearse their music it happened, 
oddly enough, that both parties had chosen the 
same hymn, and they all sang together ! 


234 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


When they had finished rehearsing, some one — 
Phoebe Jane never was quite sure whether it was 
Jerome or the professor — started “Blest be the 
tie that binds.” How they did sing it ! Old Mrs. 
Tackaberry’s thin, cracked treble sang out in defi- 
ance of time and tune ; and when the hymn ended 
tears were rolling down her seamy cheeks. 

“ I’m goin’ back to the church ! ” she said bro- 
kenly. “ I’ve sp’ilt my meet’n’s and other folks’s 
long enough. And — and — I’m goin’ to do what 
I’m a mind to, to home, when it comes sun-down 
on the Sabbath day ; but I aint goin’ to knit a 
mite in meetin’ again — not a mite!” 

There was a great hand-shaking ; Aunt Cynthia 
and Father Breck actually shook hands, and out in 
the entry old Mrs. Tackaberry kissed Phoebe Jane. 

In spite of the bad roads, there was a great con- 
gregation in the Bilberry church the next day. It 
was the professor who preached. He chose for his 
text, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” and every one 
looked at Phoebe Jane until she grew red to the 
very tips of her ears. 

She and Luella walked homeward together — 
openly, arm in arm ; and it seemed like walking in 
paradise, although one went over shoe in mud. 


THE HIGH-TOP SWEETING TREE. 235 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE HIGH-TOP SWEETING TREE. A STORY FROM 
THE TIP-TOP OF PIPPIN HILL. 

T hey all cried — every one of the Bells, from 
Peggy, who was sixteen, down to Rufus (who 
was four and despised a cry-baby), when old Mr. 
Pigeon moved away. He was such a tried and 
trusty friend, and, if he was sixty, such a congenial 
companion. He was always ready to go fishing or 
coasting with the boys, or to take the girls to drive ; 
although he was a bachelor and lived alone, he had 
a double carriage, and the largest sleigh on Pippin 
Hill — because he had so large a heart, Peggy 
said. He knew as much about the wild things in 
the woods as The Hunter’s Own Book ; ” and on 
a rainy day, or when one' had the mumps or the 
measles, he would tell stories by the dozen — stories 
that were worth telling, too, for he had been 
’round the world and home again,” and knew all 
there was to know about cannibals and buccaneers 
and wild men, and all such distinguished and inte- 
resting people. 

It happened that the only houses on the very 


236 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

tip-top of Pippin Hill were the Belfry (I suppose 
the Bells’ house may have received that name be- 
cause Papa Bell always spoke of his children as his 
small fry ; ” anyway, that is what every one in 
Bilberry called it) and the old Pigeon house, which 
had belonged to this Mr. Pigeon’s grandfather. 
The houses backed up to each other, and there 
was a mutual back-yard fence ; so, of course, it was 
very desirable that the neighbors should be friendly 
and congenial ; more than this, there was a mutual 
apple-tree. The gnarled old “ high-top sweeting ” 
was directly on the boundary line between the two 
estates, and the mutual fence had been cut in two 
to make space for it. Its branches were low and 
spreading, in spite of its high top ; and they spread 
very impartially over the Bells’ smooth lawn and 
over Mr. Pigeon’s orchard, and dropped their de- 
licious fruit — early, the first sweet apples that 
there were — almost as evenly as if it were meas- 
ured on each of their owners’ land. The only dif- 
ference was that the August sunshine lay longer 
upon Mr. Pigeon’s side ; so the first red and yellow, 
mellow and juicy apples dropped upon his orchard 
grass, and he tossed them up to Christine in her 
seat in the low crotch of the tree, the seat that he 
had made for her. 

It was Christine who thought the most of Mr. 
Pigeon and he of her, because they both had a 
twist, Christine said. She could always speak of 


THE HIGH-TOP SWEETING TREE. 237 

her trouble cheerfully, even jokingly You would 
scarcely have thought that she minded it at all ; it 
was a spinal weakness, which had bowed her shoul- 
ders and twisted her head to one side. The others 
didn’t mind much when Christine was left out of 
things, — they were a rough, merry set ; but Mr. 
Pigeon had always remembered her. His twist 
was in one of his legs ; he had to wear an uncom- 
fortable iron boot, and walked with a queer, side- 
ways motion. 

When Becky, who was eleven, and was called the 
Bilberry Budget because she carried all the news, 
came home with the dreadful intelligence that Mr. 
Pigeon was going to move away, no one would be- 
lieve it. 

‘Tn the first place it’s too dreadful to be true, and 
in the next place he would have told us,” said Peggy. 

But it really proved to be true. Mr. Pigeon’s 
sister — his own sister ! — had gone to law to ob- 
tain a share of her grandfather’s estate, which he 
had failed to bequeath to her because she had gone 
contrary to his wishes in some way, and the only 
share that she would have was that old estate on 
Pippin Hill. Perhaps the law might force her to 
take something else as her share, since he had held 
possession there so long ; but she was Hitty, and 
he should give it up to her. That was what Mr. 
Pigeon said in answer to the indignant remon- 
strances of the Bells. She was Hitty ; that was 


238 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

all he would say ; perhaps it wasn’t much of a rea- 
son, but the Bells understood. We all know what 
it is to give up things to people just because they 
are Iky or Polly or John. 

So it happened that the Bells’ dear Mr. Pigeon 
went away to a little house that he owned down at 
Pequawket Mills, and Miss Mehitable Pigeon came 
to live at the old place on Pippin Hill, and owned 
half of the high-top sweeting tree. 

And the very first thing she did — it was Sep- 
tember when she came — was to threaten to have 
Tommy Bell arrested, because when he shook their 
side of the tree her side shook too ; and she said 
the top of the tree leaned toward their side and 
more apples fell there, so when the apples were 
picked and divided she must have an extra bushel. 
She threatened to have their yellow kitten drowned 
because he scampered after the flying leaves in her 
garden ; and she did have their cross gobbler killed 
because he ran after her red morning-gown, as a 
gobbler will, you know, and gobbled at her. He 
wasn’t much loss ; and she sent him home plucked 
and dressed, with the message that she should have 
eaten him if she had not feared that he would be 
tough ! 

She complained that Becky’s peacock squawked, 
and Dicky’s guinea pig squealed, and the vane on 
their stable had “a rusty squeak” that kept her 
awake nights ; and if one of the little Bells mounted 


THE HIGH- TOP SWEETING TREE. 239 

the fence she came out and “ shoo’d ” him off as if 
he were a chicken. 

Christine, who was inclined to look on the bright 
side and to think well of every one, said that she 
would probably grow better when they got better 
acquainted; and she gave Tommy and little Rufus 
five cents each not to use their bean-slingers over 
the fence, or make faces through the knot-hole. 

But instead of growing better their new neigh- 
bor grew worse. She had the mutual fence built 
up ten feet high ; she had the branches of the 
sweeting tree lopped off where they interfered with 
the fence, and Christine’s seat thrown down to the 
ground so roughly that it was broken. She said 
she had let people impose upon her all her life, 
and she wasn’t going to any more. 

Papa Bell, who was an easy man and absorbed 
in his business, said he supposed that so many chil- 
dren and squeaking things did make them trouble- 
some neighbors ; but he thought they should have 
to remonstrate with Miss Pigeon about the fence, 
because it took away so much of their sunshine. 
Christine begged him to wait ; she always would 
believe that people were going to be better, and 
she knew there must be something good about 
Miss Pigeon, because she looked like her brother 
— only the twist seemed to be in her mind, poor 
thing ! ” 

It was in November when Christine’s seat was 


240 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


thrown out of the tree, so she could not have used 
it any more that season anyway ; and when any 
one asked her how she was going to do without 
it in the spring, she always answered, “ Perhaps 
Miss Hitty will be good by that time.” But that 
transformation didn’t seem in the least likely to 
any one else. She never forgot that Mr. Pigeon 
had said she was Hitty, though how she could ever 
be Hitty to anybody was more than the other 
young Bells could understand. 

Christine would bow to her, too, and smile shyly, 
although Miss Pigeon only scowled dreadfully in 
response. Far more difficult to forgive than their 
own wrongs was the injury that she had inflicted 
upon her brother. He wrote to them doleful let- 
ters, which showed plainly how homesick he was 
for the good air and the good-fellowship of Pippin 
Hill. One of the neighbors who saw him at Pe- 
quawket said one would hardly know him he had 
“ pined away ” so. 

After that little Rufus (honorably) returned the 
five cents to Christine, because he knew he should 
yield to the temptation to make faces through the 
knot-hole again. 

Christine turned a little pale when she heard 
this about Mr. Pigeon, and she put on her think- 
ing-cap. She couldn’t go to school like the others, 
she couldn’t go skating ; in fact, there were so 
many things she couldn’t do that it would have 


THE HIGH-TOP SWEETING TREE. 24 1 


been very discouraging to one who believe^, less 
firmly than Christine did that things as well as 
people were going to be better ; but that gave her 
all the more time to wear her thinking-cap. And 
Christine’s thoughts were pretty apt to blossom 
into deeds some way. 

Christine had made the Christmas wreaths of 
evergreen and holly from their own Pippin Hill 
woods ; and she had sent two beauties to Miss 
Pigeon, who had promptly returned them with the 
message that she didn’t want such rubbish litter- 
ing up her house. Now, when they heard that sad 
news from Mr. Pigeon she was making valentines. 
She had a very dainty knack with both pencil and 
brush, for a fourteen-year-old girl ; and her valen- 
tines were more beautiful than any that could be 
bought in the shops, or so the Bilberry young 
people all thought. 

The fashion of sending valentines might wane 
elsewhere ; but it always flourished in Bilberry, per- 
haps because Christine Bell kept it up. She sent 
them to the very last people who expected to have 
a valentine — to neglected old people and forlorn 
sick people; to Biddy Maguire, just from the old 
country, and kilt ” with homesickness, and to 
Antony Burke, the old miser, for whom no one 
had a civil word, and who, perhaps, didn’t deserve 
one. And for every valentine that was disregarded 
or thrown impatiently aside, a dozen made a little 


24^ Bilberry boys and girls. 

warmth and comfort in a sad heart ; for nobody 
has yet begun to understand how great is the day 
of small things. 

Christine was more mysterious than usual this 
year about her valentines ; she colored when Peggy 
said she would better send one to Miss Pigeon, 
but they never thought she would ; they thought 
she was only sensitive about her Christmas wreath. 

When Mr. Pigeon went away he gave Christine 
an old desk that he had had ever since he was a 
boy. It had initials and hearts and anchors cut 
into it, and was whittled at every corner ; you 
would have known if you’d seen it anywhere that 
it had belonged to a boy. But Christine would 
have it in her own room ; she thought it was beau- 
tiful. It had his boy-letters and diaries in it, and 
she had laughed and cried over them. And now 
she had found in that old desk material for the 
very queerest valentine she had ever made ; and 
although she liked to share the fun of making her 
valentines with the others, she was a little secre- 
tive about that. 

What should the paper be but a leaf from one 
of the old diaries, one side all written over in 
an unformed, boyish hand ; and this is what was 
written on it, the ink faded by time : — 

“ I cant bare to rite becos hity has the Feever and i cant 
bare knot to rite becos it semes like teling somboddy. she 


THE HIGH-TOP SWEETING TREE. 243 


held mi hand tite when she did knot now enyboddy last nite 
and I did knot let them send me to bed the fellers say if she 
does di i hav other sisters but they are knot hity the fellers 
do knot understand wen enybody sais she will ewer hav a 
bo like our agusta hity sais the Tom Tinker verse and that 
meens me as is rote on the ist leef of this Diry mi name is 
Thomas Tinkham Pigeon hity has gott a Temper but so 
hav a Good Meny Peeple and she is Good way inside and 
she is hity and she and i will alwys liv together but i cant 
bare to rite eny more for i want to now what the dokter 
sais. they say a feller must be A Man but wen it is hity i 
cant bare ” — 

Here the words became illegible on the old yel- 
low paper ; there were blots and smudges as of 
tears. Although valentines are supposed to be 
dainty, Christine didn’t try to clean it a bit ! And 
on the unwritten side, instead of painting any of 
her pretty flowers or drawing hearts or cupids, she 
only wrote “ the Tom Tinker verse ” which Hitty 
had lovingly quoted to her brother : — 

“ Tom Tinker’s my true love, and I am his dear, 

I’ll gang along wi’ him his budget to bear.” 

It certainly was a very queer valentine. Chris- 
tine thought it would probably be returned, even 
more scornfully than the Christmas wreath, — if 
Miss Pigeon should guess who sent it, — and she 
would be likely to guess that it came from the 
Belfry ; for she knew that her brother had given 
them many of his belongings. 


244 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


She sent it with fear and trembling ; and she 
told none of the others, for the older ones seemed, 
in their hearts, to share the feeling of Tom and 
little Rufus, that the only proper way to approach 
Miss Pigeon was bean-slinger in hand. 

The valentine was not returned ; but ' nothing 
seemed to come of it. The Bells’ Jane heard from 
Miss Pigeon’s Jane that her mistress had neuralgia. 
One day after March had come, and a bluebird had 
been seen to alight upon the high-top sweeting tree, 
as Christine came along the garden path there 
come a shrill, imperative voice through the knot- 
hole in the fence. 

“ If you have any more of those leaves, stuff 
them through the knot-hole ; if you have the whole 
diary, throw it over the fence.” 

Of course Christine was not going to do that 
with the diary that seemed so precious ; but she 
did send it around to Miss Pigeon’s door by old 
Jeremy, the gardener, for none of the boys would 

go- 

It was about a week after that a man made, 
under Miss Pigeon’’ s direction, a new seat in the 
crotch of the apple-tree — a seat that was delight- 
fully comfortable for a back that wasn’t straight. 
Miss Pigeon seemed to know just how. When it 
was finished, she went up and examined it and 
tried it. Then she called to Christine, who was 
sitting on the porch. 


THE HIGH-TOP SWEETING TREE. 245 

“I’m a cantankerous old woman ; I was born can- 
tankerous,” she said. “ But there’s your seat!” 

No one at the Belfry knew what to think of Miss 
Pigeon ; it was little Rufus’s opinion that a good 
fairy had tapped her with her wand and turned her 
into something else, and he was much disappointed 
to find, on peeping through the knot-hole, that she 
looked just the same. 

“ It’s delightful,” Christine said slowly. “ But it 
isn’t exactly what I meant by the valentine,” she 
added to herself. 

But a few days after, what Christine had meant 
by the valentine really did happen ; sometimes 
things that seem too good to be true do come to 
pass in this world. Miss Pigeon mounted the high 
buggy in which she drove herself and went down 
to Pequawket ; when she came back Mr. Pigeon 
was with her. Tommy discovered it first as they 
drove into the yard, and raised a shout. All the 
young Bells rushed pell-mell into the apple-tree, and 
dropped from its branches into Miss Pigeon’s or- 
chard, — even Peggy, who was sixteen, — shouting 
and laughing and crying all together. They quite 
forgot Miss Pigeon until her harsh voice broke into 
the whirlwind of greetings; with all its harshness 
there was a queer little quaver in it ! 

“ He’s come back, and he’s going to stay,” she 
said. “ It is he that belongs here, and not I. If 
you’re born with a cross-grained disposition you’ve 


246 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

got to get over it when you’re young or you’ll have 
to have more’n a ten-foot fence between you and 
other people ! I’m going back to nursing people 
in a hospital — yes, I can, though you wouldn’t 
think it ; and they like me. There’s a doctor I 
know who has invented a new contrivance for — 
for making backs straight ” — her voice really 
broke now, but she recovered herself instantly ; 
‘^the’re easier to straighten than crooked disposi- 
tions ! I’m going to send one here, and I want 
her to try it.” She nodded toward Christine, and 
then she turned away suddenly. Little Rufus ran 
after her — prudently keeping his hand on the 
bean-slinger in his pocket. (They discovered at 
an early stage of the acquaintance, that if Miss 
Pigeon had a weakness it was a terror of the 
bean-slingers.) “Are you really just the same.^ 
Didn’t a good fairy turn you into something else V* 
he demanded breathlessly. 

Miss Pigeon turned and looked down upon him, 
her strong features working. 

“ Yes, she did ! ” she answered gruffly. 

“ Did she tap you with her wand } ” pursued lit- 
tle Rufus eagerly, delighted with this confirmation 
of beliefs that were scorned in his home circle. 

“ She didn’t tap me with a wand,” said Miss 
Pigeon ; “ she sent me a valentine ! ” 


A THANKSGIV/NG VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 24/ 


CHAPTER XVL 

ALL THE PLUMS. THE STORY OF A THANKS- 
GIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 

I T seemed to the little Trulls on Pippin Hill as 
if Thanksgiving never would come. 

The November page of the Farmers Almanac 
that hung under the clock bore innumerable prints 
of small thumbs that had laboriously travelled over 
it, counting the number of days that must be lived 
through before that happy day arrived which, ac- 
cording to the governor’s proclamation, was to be 
<*a day of thanksgiving and praise.” 

Little Darius and Lucy Ann thought praise 
meant plum-pudding ; and even Jonah, who was 
getting to be an old boy, and could do problems 
in cube root, owned that it was not very long 
ago that he thought so too. 

There was a continual weighing and measuring 
of goodies, and odors of spice and sweetness floated 
out of the great kitchen all over the house. The 
children seeded the raisins, and sliced citron, and 
cracked walnuts, and chopped apples for the mince- 
pies ; but Lucy Ann and little Darius were getting 


248 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


discouraged, for it seemed every day as if the next 
must be Thanksgiving, and yet when they awoke 
in the morning it wasn’t. 

This was not going to be only an ordinary 
Thanksgiving day, with almost everything nice that 
could be thought of for dinner, and a great many 
aunts and uncles and cousins, all grown up, and all 
wanting to sit down and talk (instead of having a 
good time), for visitors. This year their little city 
cousin, whom they had never seen, was coming to 
spend Thanksgiving with them. 

Her name was Mabel Hortense, and the children 
were very proud of having a cousin who lived in 
the city and was named Mabel Hortense. At Bil- 
berry, where they lived, all the little girls were 
named Mary Jane or Sarah Ann or Lucy Maria, 
or, at the best, Hattie and Carrie ; they had scarcely 
even heard of so fine a name as Mabel Hortense. 
But a little girl who lived in a great city, where 
there was scarcely a bit of anything so common 
as grass, and the great big houses were all hitched 
on to each other,” as Roxy Jane, the hired girl, 
said, and hand-organs and monkeys were as thick 
as huckleberries in August, and there was a candy- 
store at every corner, could not be expected to have 
a common name. 

They had a photograph of Mabel Hortense, with 
her hair banged and a doll almost as large as a real 
live baby in her arms. She had a necklace around 


A THANKSGIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 249 

her neck, and bracelets on her arms, and ear-rings 
in her ears. Becky borrowed Hannah Olive Jud- 
son’s blue-glass beads to wear during Mabel Hor- 
tense’s visit, and made Lucy Ann a necklace of 
red alder-berries ; and then, as they all had on their 
Sunday clothes, she felt ready for Mabel Hortense’s 
arrival. 

It was the very night before Thanksgiving Day ; 
and all the aunts and uncles and cousins had ar- 
rived, except Mabel Hortense and her mother, and 
Peter Trott, the hired man, had driven over to the 
station to bring them. 

Even little Darius, who had begun to think that 
Thanksgiving Day had been postponed until next 
year, was now convinced that it was coming to- 
morrow. There was a blazing log-fire in the great 
fireplace in the sitting-room ; and Priscilla sat on 
the rug in front of it, herself and her three kittens 
in that condition of holiday freshness which be- 
comes New England cats on the eve of Thanks- 
giving Day. The canary birds were singing so 
loud that they had to be muffled in grandpa’s ban- 
dana handkerchief, that the aunts and uncles and 
cousins might hear each other relate all the hap- 
penings of the past year. 

Little Darius was continually running to the 
door, with his cage of white mice under one arm 
and his tame squirrel under the other, so that he 
might show them to Mabel Hortense the first thing. 


250 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“ I wouldn’t be such a silly,” said Lucy Ann, 
who had her black Dinah, with ravelled yarn for 
wool, and two great white buttons for eyes, in her 
arms, and wanted Mabel Hortense to see her the 
very first thing. Why, in the city, where she 
lives, the mice are all white, and so tame that they 
come out and dance when people play on the 
piano. Peter Trott says so. And they keep 
squirrels in the stores, all with white aprons and 
caps on, to crack nuts for customers. Peter Trott 
says so.” 

They ain’t so nice as my mice and my squirrel, 
anyway ; and grandpa says not to b’lieve Peter 
Trott, ’cause he tells wicked, wrong stories ! ” cried 
little Darius, almost moved to tears at the possibil- 
ity that any mice or any squirrels were more at- 
tractive than his. ‘‘ I shouldn’t think you’d want 
to show any city girl your old Dinah. She was 
homely enough before grandpa sat on her and flat- 
tened her all out ; she’s orjle now ! ” 

Lucy Ann might have resented this ; for she was 
very fond of Dinah, and thought her a beauty in 
spite of the accident that had befallen her, — 
which was a very cruel one, for grandpa weighed 
over two hundred pounds, — but just then the car- 
riage drove up, and a little girl was lifted out by 
Peter Trott, and set down inside the door. 

There was Mabel Hortense, bangs and doll and 
all, just as she looked in the photograph, only that 


A TH A A^KS GIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 25 I 

both she and the doll had on travelling costumes, 
so there was not so much jewellery to be seen. 

She did not look in the least like a Bilberry 
little girl, nor the doll like a Bilberry doll. The 
doll wore a suit trimmed with fur, just like her 
mamma’s, and it fitted her just as nicely. (Becky 
could only make a doll’s dress like a sacque, with 
slits for the arms, and Aunt Eunice didn’t think it 
was worth the while to make dolls’ dresses at all.) 
And she had on the daintiest gloves and boots 
imaginable, without a wrinkle in them. Gloves 
and boots were entirely unknown in doll society in 
Bilberry. 

For one moment Lucy Ann felt ashamed of 
Dinah, but she gave her an extra hug the next mo- 
ment to make up for it. 

Becky was glad that she had on Hannah Olive 
Judson’s blue beads, and that Lucy Ann had on 
brand-new shoes, for Lucy Ann’s toes were almost 
always threatening to stick out through her shoes, 
and she did hope that Solomon wouldn’t tell that 
the beads were borrowed ; that would be just like 
Solomon, and she wished she had thought to warn 
him about it when Aunt Eunice was cautioning 
him not to tell that they had borrowed the sugar- 
tongs of Aunt Jemima, and that they didn’t always 
have two kinds of preserves for supper. 

The first thing that Mabel Hortense seemed to 
notice was Dinah. 


252 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


“ Oh, what a perfectly beautiful doll ! ” she ex- 
claimed. “ She is truly colored, isn’t she.^ ” 

“ She was born so,” said Lucy Ann, proudly dis- 
playing the ravelled-yarn wool, which was Dinah’s 
strong point in the way of looks. 

“ I don’t think I ever saw a colored doll before ! 
You will give her to me, won’t you ” 

Lucy Ann was very much surprised, and didn’t 
know what to say. Becky gave her a little poke 
with her elbow. Aunt Eunice had said they must 
do everything that their city cousin asked them to 
do, and Becky thought Lucy Ann ought to give 
Dinah to her ; but Dinah wasn’t Becky’s, and she 
didn’t know how it felt to part with her. 

To keep } ” said Lucy Ann falteringly, after 
Becky had given her a second poke. 

“ Oh, of course ! I shall carry her home,” said 
Mabel Hortense. 

“Will you give me yours for her } ” said Lucy. 

“ Oh, no ; I want them both ! ” said Mabel Hor- 
tense decidedly. 

And taking Dinah out of Lucy Ann’s arms — 
by her wool — she thrust her under one arm and 
her own doll under the other, and followed her 
mother into the sitting-room. Lucy Ann’s tears 
began to flow, but Becky whispered, — 

“ I suppose that’s the way city people do. You 
mustn’t cry.” 

Mabel Hortense seated herself on a stool before 


A THANJCSGIVmG VISITOI^ TO BILBERRY. 253 

the fire, and immediately picked up the three kit- 
tens, dropping a doll on each side of her. 

“ I like kittens. I shall take these home with 
me,” she said. 

Lucy Ann received a warning look from Becky, 
but she felt that, when it came to carrying off kit- 
tens, the ways of city people could not be endured ; 
and she said firmly, ‘‘The Maltese one, with the 
very peaked tail, is Becky’s, and the black one with 
a spot on his nose is Solomon’s, and the little, 
white, fuzziest one is mine, and Priscilla herself 
belongs to Jonah.” 

Little Darius at this moment thrust his cage of 
white mice and his squirrel before Mabel Hor- 
tense’s eyes, and she dropped the kittens. 

“ Oh, what funny little things ! And the squir- 
rel, with his tail the most of him, is too sweet ! I 
shall carry them all home with me.” 

Even Becky began to doubt whether she should 
like city ways. Lucy Ann’s eyes and mouth grew 
into round Q’s with astonishment ; and little Darius 
• set up such a howl that Aunt Eunice forthwith 
shut him up in the. china-closet. 

“ I am afraid these children are not very obli- 
ging,” said Mabel’s mother. “Mabel Hortense 
has always been accustomed to have everything she 
wants.” 

Lucy Ann drew Becky into the hall and shut 
the door. “ We mustn’t let her see the play-house. 


254 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS, 

nor my tea-set, nor Solomon’s soldiers, nor little 
Darius’s elephant, nor anything. I think we’d bet- 
ter carry them all up to the attic closet and lock 
the door ! ” she exclaimed. 

Becky thought so too ; and they hurriedly col- 
lected all their playthings, and hustled them into 
the attic closet, and locked the door securely. 
Becky even took off Hannah Olive Judson’s blue 
beads and left them there. It would be so dread- 
ful if Mabel Hortense should decide to carry those 
home with her. 

But Becky’s conscience troubled her a little as 
she went back to the sitting-room ; for Aunt Eunice 
had said they must be hospitable, and do every- 
thing they could to make Mabel Hortense have a 
good time. Becky resolved that she would not re- 
fuse to do anything that Mabel Hortense wanted 
her to do. 

As she re-entered the sitting-room, Solomon 
was entertaining Mabel Hortense. 

“ I’ve my old clothes on, because I’m a boy and 
don’t care ; but you ought to see how the others • 
have been fixing up, all in their Sunday things; 
and Becky borrowed Hannah Olive Judson’s beads. 
Say, are the sidewalks all made of gingerbread in 
the city Peter Trott says so.” 

‘‘No,” said Mabel Hortense, slowly and reflec- 
tively. “ They are made of pound-cakes.” 

“True as you live.?” said Solomon. “I thought 


A 7WANICSGIFING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 255 

it was only one of Peter Trott’s yarns. And are 
the houses made of molasses candy ? ” 

Oh, no ! only some of the poor people’s houses ; 
ours is made of ice-cream.” 

“ I should think it would melt ! ” exclaimed Sol- 
omon. 

“ It doesn’t ; but sometimes we eat it up, and 
build ourselves another,” said Mabel Hortense. 

Becky looked at her. It was a feeble imitation 
of the way in which Aunt Eunice looked at Lucy 
Ann and her when they misbehaved in church. 

“ I am afraid you tell very wrong stories,” she 
said severely. ‘‘ People couldn’t possibly live in 
houses made of ice-cream.” 

Mabel Hortense blushed very red, and cast down 
her eyes. But then she answered snappishly, — 
Well, who ever s’posed he would believe it ! 
Such a big boy ! I never saw one so silly ! ” 

It was not the first time that Solomon had been 
told he was silly, but coming from a girl who lived 
in the city it was especially cutting. 

Solomon made a resolve then and there that he 
would “get even” with Mabel Hortense. 

“Do you like Thanksgiving Day.?” asked Becky 
politely. She was afraid she had spoken rather 
severely to Mabel Hortense, and was trying to 
make amends for it. 

“Not so very much,” said Mabel Hortense. “I 
like to see the stained glass in church make the 


256 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


people’s noses look red and yellow. And then 
there’s the dinner; but that’s disappointing, be- 
cause one can’t have all the plums.” 

Becky and Solomon and Lucy Ann looked as- 
tonished and inquiring. 

“ In the pudding, you know. I don’t care any- 
thing about the dinner, except the pudding; and I 
don’t care anything about the pudding, except the 
plums. Mamma gives me hers, and grandpa gives 
me his, but other people are so selfish. They eat 
their own plums. Couldn’t you manage, to-morrow, 
so that I could have all the plums ^ ” 

Solomon and Lucy Ann looked at each other in 
silent astonishment. Lucy Ann was very fond of 
plums, but it had never occurred to her that she 
could have more than her share. Solomon was par- 
ticularly fond of plums, and had been known to imi- 
tate on the sly the example of little Jacky Horner; 
but he had never wanted to eat all the plums out of 
a Thanksgiving plum-pudding. Mabel Hortense 
seemed to him almost as wonderful as the hen that 
Mother Goose was acquainted with, that 

“ Ate a cow and ate a calf, 

Ate a butcher and a half, 

Ate a church and ate a steeple, 

Ate the priest and all the people!” 

‘‘I will ask Aunt Eunice to give you a very 
plummy piece, but I don’t see how you could have 
all the plums,” said Becky seriously. 


A THANKSGIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 257 ’ 

Solomon was thinking. An idea had suddenly 
popped into his mind that here was a chance for 
mischief. Solomon loved mischief. And there 
might be also a chance to “ pay up ” Mabel Hor- 
tense, who had laughed at him and called him 
silly. 

“ Oh ! I think we could manage it,” said he. 

Roxy Jane always bakes the pudding the day be- 
fore Thanksgiving, because on Thanksgiving Day 
the oven is filled with the turkey and chickens and 
things, and then she warms it up or serves it with 
a hot sauce. The pudding is in the pantry this 
very minute ; I’ve seen it.” 

Well, what if it is } ” asked Becky. 

“We might slip into the pantry when nobody 
was looking, and carry it off and hide it some- 
where, — out in the barn, on the haymow, would 
be a good place, — and to-morrow we could eat it 
and have all the plums ! ” 

“ Why, of course ! That is just as easy ! And 
you’re a very nice boy to think of it. I’ll never 
call you silly again. Of course you’ll give me all 
the plums,” said Mabel Hortense. 

“ It would be very wrong ! What would Aunt 
Eunice say } Why, Solomon, when last Sunday 
was your birthday, and you said you were surely 
going to be good a week ! ” 

“ I didn’t know then that I was going to have 
company from the city,” said Solomon. “ And it 


258 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

isn’t any harm, anyway. There’ll be plenty for 
dinner without the pudding — maybe ’twould make 
some of them sick to eat it ; and Aunt Eunice will 
never find out what became of it.” 

“ I don’t think it’s nice of you to say it would be 
wrong, when I’m your company. People ought to 
do everything that company wants.” 

“ Aunt Eunice said we must do everything that 
Mabel Hortense wants us to,” urged Solomon. 

“Yes, so she did,” said Becky rather faintly, 
“ but” — 

“ It doesn’t make any difference whether you 
help or not, we’re going to do it,” said Solomon. 
“And now, too, for they’re all talking and won’t 
notice where we go, and Roxy Jane is setting the 
table, and can’t see us go to the pantry.” 

Lucy Ann skipped along with Solomon and Ma- 
bel Hortense, not minding in the least that Becky 
looked reprovingly at her. 

After a little hesitation Becky arose and followed 
them. She might as well see what they were going 
to do, she thought. 

There was the Thanksgiving plum-pudding in a 
great, yellow earthen baking-dish on the pantry 
shelf, rich and toothsome and sweet-smelling. 

“ I was going to take the pudding-bag to put it 
in ; but it isn’t big enough for such a whacker of a 
pudding, and the clothes-pin bag isn’t clean enough. 
Becky, you go to the clothes-press and get a clean 


A THANKSGIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 259 

pillowcase ! We can slip it into the wash-tub on 
Monday morning, and nobody will notice.” 

Becky went. Since they were going to do it 
anyway, she might as well join them, she said to 
herself. Perhaps it wasn’t polite to refuse com- 
pany. And it was going to be great fun ! 

Solomon slipped a knife around the edge of the 
pudding to separate it from the dish, as he had 
seen Roxy Jane do, and put it into the pillowcase. 
Then they all stole softly out through the long 
wood-shed to the barn, Solomon, with the pudding 
slung over his shoulder, leading the way. 

Solomon looked cautiously around to be sure that 
Peter Trott was not in the barn. Peter was not a 
tell-tale ; but he had a sweet tooth, and it was just 
as well to be on the safe side. 

There was not a sound to be heard as they en- 
tered the barn, and both Solomon and Becky soon 
forgot everything except that they were having 
great fun. 

They deposited the pudding in its pillowcase 
bag in a bed of hay, covering it carefully so that 
scarcely a glimpse of the white cloth was to be 
seen. It was hardly done when Roxy Jane rang 
the supper-bell vigorously. 

‘‘ We shall all have to go to church in the morn- 
ing,” said Solomon, as they hurried into the house ; 
‘‘but the first thing after we come home we’ll go 
up on to the haymow and eat the pudding.” 


26 o 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


One who was watching Solomon closely might 
have seen a twinkle in his eye, when he said that, 
which meant mischief deeper than any of his com- 
panions in the pudding enterprise suspected. 

For it wouldn’t be paying up Mabel Hortense to 
let her eat all the plums. Oh, no, indeed ! 

At five o’clock the next morning Solomon arose 
from his bed softly, that he might not awake Jo- 
nah, who was sleeping beside him, dressed himself 
in great haste, and stole down-stairs. He had 
meant to be up at four o’clock, but, unfortunately, 
had failed to awake. It was quite important for 
the accomplishment of his purpose that he should 
get to the barn before Peter Trott did, and Peter 
Trott was a very early bird. 

The large lantern which Peter used was not hang- 
ing in its accustomed place ; but that was not a sure 
sign that Peter had gone to the barn, because he 
was not very orderly, and might have left it some- _ 
where else. 

Solomon lighted the small lantern, and tiptoed 
softly, listening intently, all the way through the^ 
wood-shed, which had never seemed so long nor so 
dark. There was no sign of Peter Trott’ s lantern, 
and Solomon came to the conclusion that Peter’s 
alarm-clock had not yet gone off. 

An industrious hen, who had been laying an egg 
at this unseasonable hour, flew off her nest with 
a loud cackling, and startled Solomon so that he 



SOLOMON AND MABEL HORTENSE. 

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A THANKSGIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 26 1 


almost dropped his lantern into the hay. Perhaps 
she meant to lay more than one egg that day, 
because it was Thanksgiving Day ; but Solomon 
thought she might have waited until daylight. 

Her nest seemed to be very near the place where 
they had hidden the pudding. Solomon hoped that 
she hadn’t been having a peck at the plums. He 
meant to have all those plums for his own private 
refreshment. He would never have thought of it 
if Mabel Hortense had not suggested it, and he did 
not want to eat them all at once ; but he thought 
it would be a very good plan to hide the pudding 
where nobody but himself could find it, and have 
a private nibble whenever he liked. 

But the best of it was that he should be more 
than even with Mabel Hortense. Instead of having 
all the plums, she wouldn’t have any of them. And 
wouldn’t the girls all be surprised when they came, 
after church, to the place where the pudding had 
been hidden and found it gone.^ And shouldn’t 
he have to pretend to be surprised Solomon 
chuckled to himself, thinking of it. 

By this time he had come to the place where he 
had put the pudding. He put his hand down to 
pull up the bag, but, lo and behold ! there was only 
a deep hole where the pudding had lain. 

The pudding had vanished, bag and all ! 

Solomon’s first thought was that it must be 
magic — some fairy had spirited it away, to punish 


262 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


him for his misdeeds. But when his knees had 
stopped shaking, he thought of Peter Trott. 

Peter wore soft shoes, and was always near when 
one did not suspect it, and he was very fond of 
goodies. He might like all the plums as well as 
Mabel Hortense. Just at that moment he heard 
the noise of the hay-cutter at the farther end of 
the barn, and a ray of light from Peter Trott’s lan- 
tern was cast upon the barn floor. 

“ Peter, Peter, what have you done with the 
plum-pudding } ” cried Solomon angrily. 

“ Sakes alive ! Is that you up on the haymow ^ 
Do you want to scare a fellow to death } ” said 
Peter, in a shaking voice. “ What are you doin’ 
up there at this time in the morning ” 

“ I’m not so early but what you’ve been before 
me, and carried off my plum-pudding, or else eaten 
it up ! ” said Solomon, almost in tears. 

Plum-puddin’ ! Plum-puddin’ ! You ain’t walk- 
in’ in your sleep, or dreamin’, are you } It’s Thanks- 
givin’ Day, sure enough ; and it’s likely there’ll be 
a plum-puddin’ along about dinner-time, good and 
spicy, and chock full of plums, but it’s too early 
in the morning to talk about it now. I’m a master 
hand for plum-puddin’, myself, but I shouldn’t con- 
sider it wholesome before breakfast !” 

I hid the plum-pudding, in a pillowcase, up on 
this haymow, and it’s gone ! ” said Solomon ; ‘‘and 
nobody has been here but you.” 


A THANKSGIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 263 

Hid a plum-puddin’ up in the hay ? That’s 
cur’us ! ” exclaimed Peter Trott, in a tone of great 
astonishment. “And it’s gone.? — that’s cur’ user 
still ! But, now I think of it, that yaller-speckled 
hen was makin’ a great fuss up there, and she’s a 
master hand for victuals, that hen is, and she’s got 
a terrible big swallow. Why, I see her swallow a 
pumpkin the other day and make no more of it 
than she would of a pea ! ” 

“ I sha’n’t believe any more of your stories, 
Peter Trott ! ” cried Solomon. “ I got called silly 
by doing it, and grandpa says not to.” 

Peter looked very sad. 

“Well, I s’pose I have got an unfort’nit habit 
of stretchin’ the truth a little. It seems to come 
nateral. But I’m a-breakin’ myself of it fast. Now 
I come to think of it, it wa’n’t a pumpkin, but a 
squash, and not more’n a middlin’-sized one, that 
I see that hen swallow. And it ain’t likely that she 
swallowed the puddin’, on account of the bag ; that 
would have stuck in her throat, certain sure.” 

“You have done something with that pudding,” 
insisted Solomon hotly. 

“Well, now, I did toss some hay off that mow 
into Dandy Jim’s stall. You don’t s’pose the pud- 
din’ could have caught on the pitchfork, do you .? 
Dandy Jim wouldn’t have eaten the bag, anyhow, 
bein’ dretful pertikler about his victuals, so it’s 
easy enough to find out.” 


264 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

And Peter Trott, in a very eager and interested 
manner, went into Dandy Jim’s stall, and searched 
about. Solomon followed him, with his lantern, 
and looked carefully all over the stall. But no 
traces of either pudding or bag were to be found ; 
and Dandy Jim, after the closest inspection, did 
not seem to be suffering from indigestion, as Solo- 
mon thought he certainly would be if he had 
eaten the pudding-bag. 

Peter Trott certainly looked very innocent, but 
Solomon had by no means lost his suspicions that 
he knew more about the disappearance of the pud- 
ding than he chose to tell. But to show anger to- 
ward him would never bring Peter to confession. 
So Solomon began to plead with him, — 

“ Peter, please don’t tease me. P-l-eas-e tell me 
all about it.” 

Peter thrust both hands into his trousers pockets, 
and looked very benevolent. 

‘‘Well, now, I have been jokin’ a little, that’s a 
fact, but I don’t want to hurt your feelin’s. But 
as for that puddin’, all I can say is that I saw a 
tramp eatin’ somethin’ out in the barn-yard last 
night, an’ it may ’a’ been that puddin’. I can’t say 
certain that it was the puddin’, but he was a-eatin’ 
ez if he enjoyed it mighty well. He was sittin’ 
kind of doubled up in that bushel-basket, with his 
legs kind of danglin’, and he had a cloth tucked 
under his chin for a napkin. Of course, I didn’t 


A THANKSGIVING VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 265 

know how he come by it. I didn’t once think that 
it might be our Thanksgivin’ puddin’. I did think 
about orderin’ him off, but he had such a queer 
look in his eye that I felt like givin’ him a wide 
berth ; and I let him alone. Judgin’ from what you 
tell me, I’m afraid your puddin’ ’s gone for good. 
But I can’t say for certain.” 

Solomon felt satisfied that Peter was telling the 
truth now. Tramps were plenty in the neighbor- 
hood, and only the day before he himself had seen 
just such an one as Peter described, resting under 
a tree. And Peter was always careless about the 
barn-door. 

Now that the pudding was gone, Solomon began 
to think anxiously of the probability of being 
found out. While there was a great deal of fun 
to be expected with the pudding, that probability 
had kept in the background of his mind, but now 
it loomed out fearfully. Aunt Eunice would be 
sure to make a strict investigation as soon as she 
knew that the pudding was gone, and Aunt Eunice 
could always find out things. Sometimes her find- 
ing out seemed really marvellous, and she said that 
a little bird told her. Jonah said she was only 
joking, and Becky didn’t really believe it, but Solo- 
mon was inclined to think it was true. Solomon 
thought, now he came to consider the matter, that 
anybody who had stolen the Thanksgiving plum- 
pudding wouldn’t be ‘Met off very easy.” He de- 


266 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


liberated whether he should throw the blame upon 
Mabel Hortense or not. It seemed rather mean 
to tell of a girl ; but, ‘‘ anyway, he shouldn’t have 
thought of it if it hadn’t been for her.” 

The Thanksgiving sermon had always seemed 
endless to Solomon, but on this day it was actually 
too short ; anything was better than having dinner- 
time come. 

As soon as they reached home, Mabel Hortense 
and Lucy Ann came to him and whispered, — 

“ Now we will go to the barn and have the 
pudding, won’t we ” 

Becky stood in the background, looking pale and 
sad. The truth was, Becky’s conscience had been 
making her very unhappy. 

The pudding’s gone,” said Solomon gloomily. 

“ Gone ! Where 1 ” exclaimed Mabel Hortense, 
Becky, and Lucy Ann, in a breath. 

Eaten up ! ” said Solomon. 

“What ! plums and all } ” exclaimed Mabel Hor- 
tense, the corners of her mouth beginning to 
droop. “ Who did such a cruel, wicked thing } ” 

“A tramp. He ate the pudding — plums and all.” 

“ Oh, what a greedy thing, to eat all the plums ! 
I wanted them myself,” said Mabel Hortense. 

“ We haven’t had a bit of fun. And what will 
Aunt Eunice say .? ” said Becky. 

“ Girls are always getting a fellow into trouble,” 
said Solomon savagely. 


A THAArJ^SGIVnVG VISITOR TO BILBERRY. 26 / 

The children showed a surprising lack of eager- 
ness in obeying the summons to dinner, all except 
little Darius, who did not feel guilty, and still ex- 
pected plum-pudding. 

Solomon had a very small appetite for turkey, 
and Becky could scarcely force down a mouthful. 

Solomon felt, when they were waiting for des- 
sert to be brought in, that it was one of the most 
awful moments of his life ; and Becky watched the 
door with a frightened and fascinated gaze. 

But what did their eyes behold ! Roxy Jane, 
with beaming face, bearing aloft a huge platter, on 
which reposed a great, rich-brown, plummy-looking 
pudding ! It looked exactly like the pudding they 
had stolen ; and Roxy Jane said, in answer to a 
compliment upon the looks of her pudding, that 
it got a splendid bake. She never knew one to 
slip out of the dish so easily.” 

It was placed on Solomon’s end of the table, and 
he bent over and examined it critically. A tiny 
wisp of hay was clinging to its side. Solomon 
picked it off slyly, and showed it to Becky. 

Grandpa, don’t ever send Peter Trott away, 
for he’s a good fellow ! ” said Solomon eagerly. 

And all the grown people wondered why the 
plum-pudding made him think of that. 

I want all the plums ! ” said Mabel Hortense. 

But nobody paid any attention to her, and she 
had only her share, 


268 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE STORY OF AN EASTER HAT. A BILBERRY 
PORT HAPPENING. 


“ NDA JARVIS has a new hat — that’s all 



X-/ that Easter means to her ! I saw Miss Plu- 
mer’s girl carrying home the bandbox ; and then I 
just glanced in at the window as I went by, and 
there was Linda trying it on before the mirror. 
She must have been there half an hour ! ” 

The other girls — there were four or five of them 
grouped together in the high-school hall — looked 
somewhat disapprovingly at Abby Luce. They 
were all proud of the fact that Abby was a better 
Greek scholar than any boy in the school, and they 
had a vague impression that it conferred honor 
upon the Bilberry high school to have one girl 
pupil who eschewed bangs, in spite of a very high 
forehead, and was always guiltless of a ruffle or a 
ribbon; but Abby Luce, with all her strength of 
mind, must not be allowed to be too severe upon 
Linda Jarvis, for Linda was a favorite. 

Linda does like pretty clothes ; she’s a real 
Easter lily. But I don’t think it’s a bit of harm, 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 269 

if one isn’t selfish about it,” said Alice Carver 
stoutly. 

“ Or doesn’t allow one’s self to be faint-hearted 
because one can’t have them,” said Janey Jackson. 
Janey never had a dress except her Aunt Mehita- 
ble’s old ones. She had worn a snuff-colored one 
now for nearly two years — ever since the lavender 
and green plaid wore out. Janey loved pretty 
clothes, and it was hard not to feel sometimes that 
an overruling Providence might have given Aunt 
Mehitable a different taste in dress ! 

“ Of course, one ought to be thinking of better 
things than clothes at Easter,” said little Amy 
Drummond. 

“ But one’s belongings ought to be new and fresh 
and pretty then ; it’s fitting,” maintained poor 
Janey. 

“ I should expect more sensible ideas from you,” 
said Abby Luce severely. (Janey had a head 
for ” higher mathematics, and Abby respected her 
accordingly.) Of course, Linda is nothing but 
frivolous ; she shirks Latin, and writes composi- 
tions on ‘Woodland Flowers,’ and ties the manu- 
scripts with a blue ribbon ! ” 

“ Sh ! sh ! ” The warning came from several 
girls simultaneously, as the object of these dread- 
ful accusations passed through the hall within 
ear-shot. She was a tall girl, with an air of style 
which was not common in Bilberry. In fact, her 


2/0 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


father had brought his family there from the city 
a year before, having established the large cotton 
mills at the Port, which seemed likely to change 
Bilberry from a drowsy country village to a bus- 
tling town. 

She joined the group of girls now ; and the con- 
versation turned to the coming Easter services at 
the new church, and the boy choir, an innovation 
of the new minister s which had aroused much in- 
terest, and also much criticism. 

“ There’s one good thing about it, anyway — 
every one in Bilberry will go to church !” said little 
Amy Drummond. 

But little Amy Drummond did not know every 
one in Bilberry, although she had lived there all 
her life. 

Away off beyond Pippin Hill, three miles away 
from the village, there was a queer, dilapidated old 
house, whose mistress did not even know that it 
was Easter. M’randy Fickettj the mistress of this 
old house, was a girl of fifteen, and many of the 
good things of this life, as well as Easter, had 
never come in her way. Christmas never came 
beyond Pippin Hill ; and the “back folks,” as the 
dwellers in that region were called by all Bilberry, 
were too poor and “ shiftless ” to keep Thanksgiv- 
ing Day. Of course, there will be something of 
the Fourth of July wherever there is a boy, and 
there were boys among the “ back folks ; ” and one 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 


271 


day — oh, blissful memory! — the balloon that went 
up from Bilberry common had come down on the 
edge of Purgatory Swamp, only a few rods from the 
dilapidated old house. M’ randy had dated every- 
thing from that exciting day for long afterwards. 
It was different for her brother ’Lije ; more good 
times came to him, either because boys always will 
have them, or because he had plenty of boy com- 
rades, while there was scarcely a girl of M’randy’s 
age among the “back folks.” 

’Lije and M’ randy, who were twins, lived alone 
together in the queer house — you will believe that 
it was queer when you know that it was Deacon 
Baldwin’s old granary ; its owner had benevolently 
moved it there for the Picketts to live in, when 
they had come to Bilberry with their father, who 
was dying of consumption. 

They could raise vegetables ; they could cut all 
the wood they needed off the piece of land which 
Deacon Baldwin had given them ; they kept a cow, 
and M’randy made butter and sold it ; in winter she 
knit stockings, which found a sale at the store, 
and they need never have been really in want if 
’Lije had only been — well, just a little different. 
M’randy never admitted anything more than that 
even to herself ; she would like to have ’Lije just a 
little different, but then, being a boy, perhaps he 
couldn’t be. She was always ready to find ex- 
cuses for him when he preferred to go fishing 


2/2 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


rather than to chop wood or dig potatoes, and she 
was inclined to think that 'Lije would always be- 
have well if there were not so many rough boys to 
lead him into mischief. The mills had brought a 
set of rougher boys to town than ever were there 
before; and ’Lije seemed to have private affairs 
with them, which troubled M’randy. 

There was a cloud on her face as she stood in 
the doorway on this Easter morning — as sunshiny 
and springlike an Easter morning as ever dawned. 
She had lain awake in the night worrying about 
’Lije. For ’Lije had been very silent of late ; he 
was cross when. she wanted him to do anything, and 
he had been out late the night before, probably 
with those dreadful mill-boys. 

But her face lightened as a boy’s voice rang out 
from the woods immediately behind the house ; a 
boy’s voice of wonderful quality — clear, flute-like, 
angelic, as only a boy’s voice can be. 

Ordinarily ’Lije’s songs were not angelic; he 
picked them up in the street, or at the mills ; 
he sang the airs that were ground out by a stray 
hand-organ or a minstrel troupe. Surprise grew 
no M’randy’s face as she listened now: — 


“ The strife is o’er, the battle done ! 

The victory of life is won; 

The song of triumph is begun, 

Hallelujah !” 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 


273 


How ’Lije’s clear soprano rang out on the ‘‘hal- 
lelujah ” ! M’randy didn’t know just what the words 
meant. “ That must be the song that he said he 
heard them practising down to the new meetin’- 
house. ’Lije can catch a tune so quick!” she said 
to herself. “ I guess it’s the same tune that man 
heard the other day, when he was goin’ by ’n’ 
stopped ’n’ asked who ’twas that was singin’. I 
don’ know who the man was ; mebbe ’twas the new 
minister down to the Port. They say he thinks a 
sight of singin’. I wish’t I could hear ’em sing 
down there ! But I hain’t got nothin’ to wear.” 

This sad reflection brought a new idea to M’ran- 
dy’s mind. 

“ I wish’t I could get ’Lije to harness up old 
Nancy ’n’ go down to the Port with me this morn- 
ing. I want to sell my butter, and I’ve got that 
soft-soap made that Mis’ Giles wanted. ’Lije I” 

’Lije was still singing : — 


“Christ the Lord is risen to-day!” 


The strains came joyfully to M’ randy’s ears. 
But M’ randy’s mind was on her butter and the 
soft-soap for Mrs. Giles. 

’Lije came at last, with his arms full of wood 
for the fire. It meant that ’Lije was good-natured 
when he brought in wood in the morning without 
being asked to do so. 


274 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

“ Carry your butter to the store this morning? ” 
he repeated after M’randy, in a tone of extreme 
surprise. 

<‘I know you said you was goin’ fishin’, but we 
hain’t got a mite of flour, ’Lije ; so I must sell the 
butter.” 

There was a very queer twinkle in ’Lije’s eyes. 
M’randy thought she hadn’t known him to be in 
such good humor for a long time ; in fact, not since 
he had begun to go with the mill-boys. 

’Lije turned his head away to hide a laugh. He 
thought it was a good joke that M’randy had for- 
gotten that it was Sunday — M’randy, who was 
always preaching to him about behaving well, and 
mourned because they couldn’t go to church, and 
used to read, once in a while, in the old Bible that 
their father had left them, until he gradually tore 
it up — a fellow had to have wadding for his gun ! 

He thought it would be a fine joke to take 
M’randy through the main street of Bilberry with 
her butter and soap in their old wagon, while the 
people were going to church. 

Nancy was an ancient, raw-boned steed of which 
the Bilberry boys made fun ; the Picketts had 
bought her of old Jerry Flint, the drunken cobbler, 
for two loads of wood, a dozen pairs of stockings, 
and half a cheese ; and as the wagon was very old 
and rickety, and rudely mended with ropes and 
wires, it was altogether a queer equipage of which 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 2/5 

Abby Luce and little Amy Drummond caught 
sight on their way to church. 

“ They really look as if they were going ped- 
dling! I don’t suppose it makes the least differ- 
ence to them that it’s Sunday,” said Abby Luce. 
“ That Fickett boy goes with the mill-boys, and 
puts them up to mischief. I’ve heard. There’s a 
strike, you know, and they’re afraid of serious 
trouble among the boys.” 

“ There really ought to be some missionary work 
done among those back folks ! ” said little Amy 
Drummond, with her soft blue eyes full of trouble. 

They looked so severely at M’ randy that the 
color rose to her face. 

‘‘’Lije, they’ve all got their best clothes on I 
Everybody we’ve seen has.” The color and the 
distress deepened suddenly in M’randy’s face. “ O 
’Lije! how could you let me do it Why didn’t 
you tell me } — it’s Sunday ! ” 

’Lije turned away his face. He was fond of 
M’ randy, and her distress touched him. It did not 
seem so good a joke, after all. 

Sunday } Of course it’s Sunday ! ” called a 
cheery voice. ‘‘ Easter Day too.” 

M’randy, turning, saw, through her tear-suffused 
eyes, a tall, stylish young lady, adorned with the 
very prettiest of spring hats. M’randy knew her 
at once as the daughter of Mr. Jarvis, the mill- 
owner. ’Lije recognized her also, and scowled at 


2/6 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


her. He prided himself upon siding with the stri- 
kers, and disapproving of mill-owners. 

“ Aren’t you the boy who sings "i ” asked the 
girl, smiling upon him in the most friendly way, 
quite regardless of scowls. “ I’ve heard that you 
had a wonderful voice. Mr. Morris, the new minis- 
ter, has heard you, and he said he wished that you 
would sing in the choir.” 

A look of gratification was struggling through 
’Lije’s scowl in spite of himself. 

“ Won’t you come to church and hear the music, 
any way 1 ” said the girl. 

“ Oh ! I wish’t we could,” cried M’randy. “ But 
we look so ! I — I forgot ’twas Sunday ! I don’ 
know how I come to. I do remember mostly. 
But we was all out of things, and I was real 
worried, ’n’ I wanted to sell my butter ’n’ soap. 
Oh ! I would like to go to meetin’ ’n’ hear them 
boys sing ! ” 

I’ll tell you what you can do,” said Linda Jar- 
vis, who had been performing some rapid mental 
calculations. “Aunt Ruth Oliver lives just below 
here. She will let you leave your wagon in her 
barn, and you can come to church with me.” 

M’randy looked at her calico gown and her old 
sacque ; they were clean and whole, although faded. 
Then she took her hood off her head, and eyed it 
ruefully ; it was hopelessly ragged, and its original 
color was entirely lost. 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 


277 


“ If it wa’n’t for the hood ! but folks would 
laugh ; they wouldn’t want me to meetin’ in that,” 
she murmured dejectedly. 

Linda hesitated ; there was not time to go home ; 
the church bells had long ago ceased to ring ; then 
she took the dainty hat off her own head, and set 
it upon M’randy’s. I am not going to tell of the 
struggle that went on in her mind while she hesi- 
tated ; some one might think that I exaggerated ; 
but it would not be a girl who, dearly liking pretty 
things, had planned an Easter hat weeks before- 
hand, and found it a triumph of her own and the 
milliner’s art, and the most becoming hat she had 
ever worn ! Whatever you may think, I am sure 
that the recording angel knew it was a sacrifice. 

“ There ! you shall have that for your own. Now 
I am sure you won’t be ashamed to go to church,” 
cried Linda. . 

M’randy colored high with delight under the 
pretty hat. It was quite wonderful to see how 
pretty she looked. Linda was surprised that she 
had not observed how lovely she was. ’Lije felt 
surprised in the same way, and in spite of himself 
his heart softened and swelled. 

Oh, no ! I sha’n’t go to church bareheaded,” 
Linda said gayly, in answer to M’randy’s anxious 
query. Aunt Ruth Oliver will lend me a hat.” 
She winced a little at the thought of the hat which 
Aunt Ruth Oliver would lend her; Aunt Ruth 


2/8 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

was an elderly spinster, and wore the dowdiest of 
clothes. 

Linda had reflected, while she hesitated about 
giving away her Easter hat, that Aunt Ruth would 
never lend any of her head-gear to one of the 
“ back folks.” 

“You will come, too, won’t you.?” Linda said 
to ’Lije, after the wagon had been driven into Miss 
Ruth Oliver’s barn, Linda having asked the per- 
mission of that much surprised and scandalized 
lady. 

M’randy had previously whispered to ’Lije that 
he looked “ ’most like other folks,” the patches on 
his trousers showed so little, and his jacket and 
cap were almost new. 

’Lije found it hard to decide whether he would go 
or not. It seemed like a forsaking of his principles 
to go to church with the mill-owner’s daughter, and 
yet he did want to hear that boy choir sing ! He 
privately confided to M’randy that he knew he 
“ could sing them fellers out of sight ; but he should 
like to hear how well they could do.” 

So it came to pass that both ’Lije and M’randy 
went to church that Easter Day with Linda Jarvis. 
They would have been ushered into her father’s 
pew, but that ’Lije stoutly declined that honor. 
So they sat near the door ; but all the high-school 
girls who were at church, craned their necks to see 
the “ back folks ” girl with an astonishingly pretty 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 2/9 

hat on, whom Linda Jarvis had brought to church ; 
while Linda herself wore an old brown thing with 
purple roses on it. 

• The choir-master sought ’Lije out after the 
service, privately instigated by Linda. ’Lije was 
flattered by the invitation to join the choir; he 
loved to sing, and had long cherished an uncon- 
fessed desire to have his voice trained. M’randy 
went home almost overcome with delight that even 
’Lije was, at last, going to have a chance, and 
was willing to try to be “ like other folks.” 

To the surprise of all in Bilberry the trouble 
with the mill-boys came to a sudden and most 
peaceful end. Linda overheard some men talking 
about it. 

They had a plan to get hold of Ponsonby, the 
overseer of the weaving-room, and duck him in 
the pond,” said one. Ponsonby is harsh and over- 
bearing ; but he is an old man, and ’twould have 
been a serious matter. Then they meant to set 
fire to the old mills, and that fire would have spread. 
How did they happen to give up so peaceably ? 
Well, that Pickett fellow was the ringleader. He’s 
a young chap, but smart, and has great influence 
over the boys, especially over those who live up 
back there where he does. He has reformed ; he 
and his sister go to church every Sunday, and he 
sings in the choir. He told the boys to go to Mr. 
Jarvis and tell of their wrongs like men. It seems 


28 o 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


that Jarvis’s daughter was kind to his twin sister; 
that’s how it all came about.” 

“ I’m glad that I didn’t think too much of that 
Easter hat ! ” said Linda to herself, drawing a long, 
long breath. 

The girls in the academy hall were talking about 
’Lije and M’randy about a year afterwards. 

“ Do you know, that girl is actually coming to 
school } ” said little Amy Drummond. “ Linda 
Jarvis has been helping her to prepare, and she 
calls her ‘my friend, Miranda Pickett.’ The boy 
is in Mr. Jarvis’s counting-room, and Mr. Jarvis 
tells everyone how promising he is. He really has 
a wonderful voice; he is going to have a salary 
for singing next year. And that queer little gran- 
ary house of theirs has muslin curtains in the 
windows, and the prettiest flower-garden in town ! 
I wonder how such a change came about. Abby 
Luce and I saw them coming to the village in their 
old wagon last Easter Day, as if it were a week- 
day, and how they did look ! ” 

Abby Luce was meditative. After that Easter 
morning she became less severe in her judgments. 
No one but her had guessed the story of the 
Easter hat ; for Miss Plumer, the milliner, had been 
pledged to secrecy. 

“ I know how the change came about,” said Abby 
Luce slowly. And while they all look wondor- 


A BILBERRY PORT HAPPENING. 


28 


ingly at her, Abby told them as much of the story 
as she knew. It was through Linda Jarvis’s 
Easter hat,” concluded Abby, and Linda’s lovely, 
self-denying spirit. And, girls, if you ever know 
me to say mean things of any one again, I hope 
you’ll remind me of that Easter hat I” 


282 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

MARMY, A BILBERRY CORNER “HOUSE-MOTHER,” AND 
A SCHOOL-TEACHER WHO IS AN OLD FRIEND. 

“TF it were not for the Dodds and the Dusen- 
i berry s ” — 

That was what Miss Tackaberry said when her 
adopted daughter wished to teach the summer 
school at Bilberry Corner. And old Dr. Kittredge, 
of the School Committee, said the same thing, 
with grave head-shakings, when Miss Louisa Jane 
Tackaberry applied to him for the school. 

“ They’re a rough set over at the Corner, and 
the Dodds and the Dusenberrys keep up a per- 
petual quarrel. I’m afraid they’d be more than 
you could manage, my dear.” 

“ Let me try. Doctor. Tm not afraid.” And 
Miss Tackaberry drew her nineteen-year-old slim- 
ness very erect. 

The upshot of the matter was that Ludy Jane 
secured the school, and on the first Monday morn- 
ing when she “ called the roll ” her heart beat a 
lively accompaniment to the names of the Dodds 
and the Dusenberrys. She had found in the desk 


A BILBERRY CORNER ''HOUSE-MOTHER.'^ 283 

the book which her predecessor had used ; and it 
had occurred to her that it would simplify matters 
to call the names which she found there, and see 
how many were still pupils. 

There was nothing very alarming in the appear- 
ance of the Dodds and Dusenberrys who answered 
to their names on that Monday morning. The 
Dodds were dark, straight-haired little fellows of 
a most serious aspect, from Hosea, aged twelve, 
down to Aaron, who was six, and spoke thickly, by 
reason of having his thumb in his mouth. Tow 
hair, snub noses, and freckles seemed to be the 
characteristics of the Dusenberrys — Leek (a nick- 
name evolved somewhat mysteriously from Alex- 
ander), Leonidas, and Phoebe Jane. In addition 
to these family characteristics, Phoebe Jane, aged 
ten, had a remarkably prominent chin, and an 
angular little figure which showed energy and de- 
termination in every line. She was near-sighted, 
and her eyes were slightly crossed ; and it was this, 
probably, which caused the slight scowl which the 
new teacher thought looked defiant. She remem- 
bered the wise talks about physiognomy which she 
had heard at the time when the composite photo- 
graphs were taken, and said to herself that if any 
one of the Dodds or Dusenberrys should prove 
“more than she could manage,” it would be Phoebe 
Jane. And she adhered to this opinion ; although 
Phoebe Jane showed a disposition to be helpful, 


284 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

and was full of information, which proved to be 
more reliable than that which the other children 
offered. She knew that little Lysander Huckins 
was coming to school as soon as his grandmother 
finished his new trousers, and that Sarah Ann 
Grindall wasn’t coming, because her mother didn’t 
believe the new teacher knew beans.” 

Miss Tackaberry had appointed Phoebe Jane 
spokesman, because at every question she asked a 
babel of voices arose, from which it was impossible 
to obtain any intelligible answer. It was immedi- 
ately evident that Phoebe Jane had become an ob- 
ject of envy to the others. Viola Cook, the largest 
girl in the school, ‘‘made faces” at her in the most 
open and unabashed manner ; and while Phoebe 
Jane stood properly erect, with her arms folded be- 
hind her. Miss Tackaberry saw with surprise that 
her face was growing scarlet and her eyes filling 
with tears. She was hoping that she had not said 
anything to wound her feelings, when Emeretta 
Gooch, who sat in the front seat, arose from an 
excursion on the floor, and frantically waving her 
hand for permission to speak, cried out, “ Drusilly 
Pepper’s a-pinchin’ her legs ! ” 

And at the same moment Phoebe Jane’s stoical 
endurance gave way, and she swooped upon the of- 
fending Drusilla, whose cries testified to summary 
punishment. After Miss Tackaberry had tried to 
administer strict justice, receiving from Drusilly 


A BILBERRY CORNER '^HOUSE-MOTHER.'^ 28 $ 

as an explanation of her conduct that Phoebe Jane 
was “ teacher’s pet,” she attempted to go on with 
the roll. 

When she called Electa Dodd’s name, there had 
been no reply of present ” ; and now, as she in- 
quired where Electa Dodd was, Phoebe Jane sur- 
prised her by bursting into tears. Miss Tackaberry 
looked anxiously upon the floor, thinking that the 
revenger of partiality must have again resorted to 
pinching ; but Emeretta Gooch again explained, — 

‘‘ She feels bad because Lecty Dodd can’t never 
come to school any more. She fell off’m the hay- 
loft, and now she can’t walk a single step. She 
likes Lecty, and Lecty likes her, if all their folks is 
a-fightin’ and a-quarrellin’, and always was. Dodds- 
es tried to say that Phoebe Janepushed her off’m 
the hay-loft, but Lecty said ’twa’n’t so, and nobody 
don’t believe it, if Phoebe Jane has got an awful 
quick temper. Doddses was mad because Phoebe 
Jane was over there; she ’n’ Lecty was always 
gettin’ together when they could. Doddses and 
Dusenberrys ’ — 

Miss Tackaberry interrupted Emeretta’ s flow of 
information by calling the next name. Phoebe Jane 
womanfully swallowed the lump in her throat, and 
pressing her lips tightly together to hide their quiv- 
ering, stood in the same proper attitude, her little 
sharp elbows protruding at each side, ready to an- 
swer the new teacher’s questions. But the very 


286 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


next day Miss Tackaberry had reason to think that, 
after all, she had not been mistaken in expecting 
that Phoebe Jane would be “ hard to manage.” By 
that time something like order and discipline had 
been established. The new teacher was strict in 
suppressing whispering and all communication. 
When a small wad of paper came flying across the 
room, and was dexterously caught by Phoebe Jane 
Dusenberry, who unrolled it and read something 
written upon it. Miss Tackaberry promptly com- 
manded her to bring the paper to the desk. After 
one instant’s hesitation, Phoebe Jane popped the 
little wad of paper into her mouth, chewed it de- 
terminedly with her small, strong teeth, and swal- 
lowed it. 

This was the first open rebellion that the new 
teacher had encountered. There was a murmur all 
over the schoolroom, surprise, not unmixed with a 
delightful excitement. It was “teacher’s pet ” who 
had been guilty of this daring disobedience. 

“ Phoebe Jane Dusenberry will stay in at recess,” 
said Miss Tackaberry, so calmly that no one would 
have supposed that she was inwardly sorely dis- 
quieted and perplexed about what she was to do 
with this small rebel. 

After she had marshalled the others out in single 
file to recess — an astonishing innovation for the 
Corner school, where they had always been allowed 
to go out with a rush and a whoop at the touch of 


A BILBERRY CORNER HOUSE-MOTHERS 287 

the teacher’s bell — Miss Tackaberry returned, with 
a troubled mind, to Phoebe Jane, who sat with a 
sturdy and defiant air before the window, on the 
other side of which some laughing boys had already 
gathered, and little Aaron Dodd’s scornful face was 
raised as far above the sill as his extremely limited 
height would permit. The teacher waved the boys 
away with an imperative gesture. 

“ La ! you needn’t trouble about them young 
ones. I can ’tend to them,” remarked Phoebe Jane, 
with calm superiority. 

“ Phoebe Jane, why didn’t you obey me when I 
told you to bring that paper to my desk } ” said 
Miss Tackaberry. 

‘‘ ’Cause I wa’n’t a-goin’ to have anybody know 
what was wrote on that paper,” said Phoebe Jane 
firmly. “ I ketched it on the fly, so’st Leek couldn’t 
get it. Hosy Dodd he throwed it to Leek ; he was 
mad ’cause Leek got above him, but sence he beat 
Leek choosin’ sides, he won’t say no more. But if 
Leek had read what was wrote there, he’d ’a’ carried 
the paper straight home to Hash. Our Hash he’s 
said he’d shoot D’ri Dodd if ever he heard of his 
sayin’ agin that ’twas him that cut the underpinnin’ 
of the bridge over their crick time it broke, and 
D’ri got carried off and ’most drownded. You 
don’t know our Hash so well as I do ! He’ll do 
what he says he will, and there ain’t any stoppin’ 
him.” 


288 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Miss Tackaberry had indeed heard that Ahasue- 
rus, the eldest of the Dusenberry boys, was a law- 
less fellow, and the prime mover in the feud 
between the two families. 

“ Hosy wrote that ’twas Hash that had cut the 
bridge, and that I pushed Lecty off'm the hay-loft. 
I’m tollin’ you jest what was wrote, ain’t I } But 
you don’t ’pear to be one of them kind that tells 
all they know. But I was afraid you’d read it right 
out if I carried it to you. The teacher we had last 
summer she used to do that with every note she 
could ketch. I wanted to mind you. I like you 
real well ; but, you see, there wa’n’t anything I 
could do but jest to swallow that note. I didn’t 
want to make you mad at me, but I don’t care for 
anything if I can only jest keep the boys from 
quarrellin’ and fightin’. It makes Lecty feel aw- 
ful. Me ’n’ Lecty like each other. We always 
did. You see, it’s awful lonesome where we live. 
There ain’t many houses, and what there is is 
chockful of boys. That’s what makes the boys 
think so much of me ; where girls is scarce, they 
do. Hash and Leek, they’ll do anything for me, 
except to quit fightin’ Doddses. There ain’t any 
mother to our house either, ’n’ so they call me 
Marmy. 

“It’s jest the same way over to Lecty’s, only 
they’ve got a gra’mother. We got so that we 
didn’t darst to speak to one another, Lecty ’n’ me, 



“ MARMY.-’ 


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A BILBERRY CORNER NO C/SE- MOTHER!* 289 

only jest through a chink in the fence, except that 
one day when they was all gone away but Gram, 
and I went over to their barn, and Lecty fell, and 
they said I pushed her. That was an awful foolish 
story to tell ; for, if I be quick, I never got mad 
with Lecty. The boys set out to drownd a kitten 
that I gave her through the chink in the fence. 
They didn’t, ’cause Lecty cried ; but they wouldn’t 
have it round the house, and Lecty has to keep it 
’way up-stairs in the mill. It’s got a whole family 
of kittens now, all up in the mill chamber, and 
Gram has to feed them. Lecty thinks everything 
of that yellow cat ; but until she got hurt, D’ri was 
always threatenin’ to drownd her, ’cause she was 
our cat once. D’ri is the worst, unless it’s our 
Hash, and they used to be great friends once, too. 
So, now, I wa’n’t to blame for swallowin’ the paper, 
was I .? ” 

Phoebe Jane had poured out her story breath- 
lessly, as if it were a relief to an over-full heart. 

‘‘I — I wish that you had brought it to me, and 
asked me not to read it aloud,” said Miss Tacka- 
berry, hesitating between due regard for discipline 
and sympathy with Phoebe Jane’s feelings, which 
seemed too deep for her years. 

I didn’t stop to think ; . and if I had, I don’t ex- 
pect I could have risked it. You see, Lecty ’n’ 
me have got a plan. I wrote it to her, and she 
kept wavin’ and wavin’ at me, and I know how 


290 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS 

glad she’ll be if we can do it. You see, Lecty’s 
boys and our boys are all goin’ over to Cumberland 
Village to the Fourth of July celebration. Hash 
said he’d take me, and I guess he didn’t know what 
to make of it when I said I didn’t want to go. 
There ain’t goin’ to be anybody to home at Lecty’s 
but Gram, and she’ll help us. Gra’ mothers almost 
always will help you. She’ll bring Lecty as far as 
the fence — there’s quite a piece between Lecty’s 
house and mine, if the farms does join — and then 
Huldy, our work-girl, will carry her the rest of the 
way ; she ain’t much more’n a feather now, Lecty 
ain’t, she’s fell away so. Some folks might not 
think it was any great for Lecty to spend the day 
with me ; but Lecty will, ’n’ it seems as if I couldn’t 
stand it if anything should happen so she couldn’t 
come. You do get awful sick of such a lot of boys 
as there is at my house and Lecty’s, even if you 
do think a lot of ’em. And it’s so hard to bring 
’em up right, that you do want a little rest, with 
nobody but Lecty and the dolls.” 

Phoebe Jane heaved a deep sigh of responsibility, 
and Miss Tackaberry repressed a smile. Her in- 
terview with her disobedient “kept-in ” pupil was 
not what she had expected it to be, but she found 
Phoebe Jane’s confidences interesting. 

“ Elder Doak heard what they called me,” con- 
tinued Phoebe Jane, vaguely aware that she had 
found a sympathetic listener, “and he patted me 


A BILBERRY CORNER ''HOUSE-MOTHERS 29 1 

on the head, jest as if I was little, you know ; and 
says he, ‘ Bring ’em up well, Marmy ; bring ’em 
up well ! ’ ” 

With a sudden awakening to her duty. Miss 
Tackaberry touched the bell, and the children came 
trooping in, looking with round-eyed wonder at the 
clock, and congratulating each other with furtive 
nudges upon the new teacher’s ignorance of the 
proper limits of a recess. 

“ I hope that Marmy and Lecty will have their 
day together,” was the first thing that the new 
teacher thought on the morning of the Fourth. 
She drew her curtain aside when she heard the 
rattle of wheels, and saw with satisfaction all the 
younger Dusenberry boys in their wagon, with 
Hash, a big brawny fellow of seventeen, riding his 
black mare — all on the way to Cumberland Vil- 
lage. Even earlier than this she had heard the 
Dodd boys go by, shouting and firing crackers. 
She felt a little anxious lest they should get into a 
quarrel at the celebration. She did not know that 
Hash, penned in behind the wood-shed door by 
Marmy, had held up his right hand, and solemnly 
promised that he would not. Hash would not al- 
ways promise like that ; when he did, Marmy 
could have a quiet mind. 

She was at the fence almost as soon as the boys 
were out of sight ; and ‘‘ Gram,” a tall, dark old 


292 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

woman, with a worn but kindly face, was lifting 
over the fence a fragile, wan-faced little girl, who 
looked all eyes and smile. Huldy’s strong arms 
caught her, and Marmy went wild with joy. 

“You mustn’t keep her too late,” said Gram, 
“ though I don’t expect the boys will be at home 
till ’most morning.” 

What a day it was ! Hash had left some fire- 
crackers and torpedoes, and Phoebe Jane had a 
secret liking for them ; but she gave them up with- 
out a sigh when Lecty thought they savored too 
much of boys. The dolls’ house which Hash had 
made for Phoebe Jane was new to Lecty ; and they 
had it out upon the piazza, with no jeering boys to 
hear them play “ come to see.” And good-natured 
Huldy made strawberry cake out of the sweet little 
wild strawberries that grew all about Bilberry, and 
cream-pies with mountains of frosting ; and Nap, 
the old dog, brightened up and performed all his 
tricks, as if he realized the importance of the oc- 
casion ; and altogether the day slipped away too 
soon, and it was time to watch for the rockets from 
Cumberland Village common. 

As soon as it was “ pitch dark ” Lecty said she 
must be carried home, and Phoebe Jane agreed to 
this sorrowful necessity. Some of the boys might 
come home. Leek had a strong tendency to blow 
himself up, more or less seriously, with fire-crack- 
ers and toy pistols, and little Aaron Dodd always 


A BILBERRY CORNER HO USE-MO THE RI* 293 

got lost ; SO there was an undercurrent of motherly 
anxiety amidst all the felicities of the playhouse, 
and some dread of being surprised as well. 

“ There don’t seem to be so very many rockets,” 
said Lecty, as they watched the darkening sky. 
“ But look, Phoebe Jane, what a great flaring light 
right over by our mill-stream ! ” 

It must be at the Grindalls,” said Phoebe Jane. 
'‘They had fireworks one year. See! it lights up 
the whole sky. Oh, Lecty, it must be a fire ! It’s 
your mill I ” 

" Oh, oh, Phoebe Jane I Mary Buttercup and her 
kittens are shut up there, away up-stairs ! I got 
Gram to shut the door, because Dicky Grindall 
was about the mill with fire-crackers, and he tor- 
ments cats.” 

Phoebe Jane flew. She shouted fire as she went, 
with all the breath she had. She had seen Lecty 
spring to her feet^ and in her excitement had hardly 
thought it strange. Now as she heard footsteps 
behind her, she turned and saw in the dusk a small 
figure evidently struggling hard to run as fast as 
she did. It was so like Lecty that it filled her 
with wonder and a vague fear. But she could not 
stop to wonder or fear. There seemed to be no 
one to come to her call ; men, women, and children 
had gone to the Cumberland Village celebration ; 
but still she ran on and shouted. And still the 
little figure, trembling and stumbling, with now 


294 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

and then a quivering sob breaking from its lips, 
followed close behind, until at last it fell, a little 
heap by the roadside. 

“ Oh, Mary Buttercup and all her dear kit- 
tens ! ” it murmured, with a great sob of despair. - 

The Dusenberrys were coming home from the 
celebration. Leek was riding the mare now ; and 
Hash was dangling his long legs from the back of 
the wagon, while Leonidas drove. Now and then 
Hash would growl at Leonidas about getting his 
feet upon a bundle which was under the seat. It 
was some blue-sprigged muslin and blue hair-rib- 
bons which Hash had bought for Marmy, making 
haste to do it the first thing in the morning, lest 
the shops should be closed. 

They were not in the best of humor, for the 
economy of the Cumberland authorities had limited 
the expected grand display of fireworks to a few 
rockets. Before eight o’clock Cumberland Village 
had shown a disposition to say good-night to its 
guests, and put on its night-cap. They were 
grumbling about the “one-horse town,” when the 
Dodds’ wagon dashed by them, raising a great 
cloud of dust. Leek was urging his horse after 
them, with an angry exclamation about “taking 
their dust,” when Hash savagely called him back. 

“ Let ’em go ! The horses are tired,” he said. 

Perhaps, knowing that the boys were in a quar- 
relsome mood, he had remembered his promise to 


A BILBERRY CO RATER HO USE-AfO THERA' 295 

Marmy. Queer as it was, she had even more in- 
fluence over that great burly six-footer of a Hash 
than over the younger boys. 

‘‘ Well, if you want to take that fellow’s sneers,” 
growled Leek as he reined in his horses. “He 
was makin’ fun of our team, /ain’t a lamb.” 

No one seemed disposed to dispute this assertion 
of Leek’s, but Hash half started from the wagon. 

“ I s’pose I ought to put a stop to his sarse,” 
he said. But he lay back in the wagon after a 
moment, drawing the bundle of blue muslin out 
from under the seat and using it as a pillow. 

“ Look here, boys ! ” cried Leonidas. “ Bilberry 
Corner has been beating Cumberland out and out 
on fireworks.” 

They were just turning out of the woods road, 
aud now they could see thfe glow which reddened 
the whole sky. 

“ What does it mean ? ” said Hash, standing up 
in the wagon and gazing eagerly, with his hand 
shading his eyes. 

“ It means that Dodds’ have got something to 
do besides sneering at folks. Their mill’s a-fire ” 
exclaimed Leek. 

“ Here, give me the reins, Leonidas. Make the 
mare go. Leek,” cried Hash. 

“ Mebbe you want to help the Dodds,” sneered 
Leek. 

But Hash only urged the horse for answer. 


296 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

\ 

The highway near the burning mill was blocked 
with teams. People had driven home post-haste, 
on seeing the fire. Hash left the wagon and ran 
across the field, followed by the boys. He could 
scarcely have told whether he meant to try to 
*‘help the Dodds’,” or was only following his natu- 
ral impulse to run to a fire. 

There was intense excitement in the crowd gath- 
ered around the burning mill. 

“’Twas a foolhardy thing to do.” He’ll never 
get out alive.” “’Twon’t last a minute more.” 
“The girl was a plucky one.” “ ’Twas a cat and 
and kittens that she was after, and she dropped 
’em down in a basket.” “The stairs must have 
gone just as D’ri got up.” “ He’s got to the little 
girl, though.” “ There they are in the window.” 
These were the confused cries that Hash heard. 
In the blinding glare he saw a little white face and 
a tow head in the window. 

“ It’s Marmy ! ” he cried, and rushed toward the 
burning ruin. But strong arms held him back, and 
just then a shout arose from the crowd. 

“ D’ri has jumped into the water with the girl.” 
“He’s swimming.” “There it goes” — the mill 
walls had fallen with a crash — “ but he’s clear of 
it.” “ But he’ll sink if he don’t let go of the girl.” 
“ No, he won’t ; they’re helping him out.” “ Well, 
you wouldn’t think that D’ri Dodd would have 
risked his life for one of the Dusenberrys ! ” 


A BILBERRY CORNER HOUSE- MOTHER:' 29 / 

Hash heard it all as if in a dream, as he pushed 
his way frantically through the crowd, and took 
Marmy’s dripping, motionless little figure from D’ri 
Dodd’s arms. 

I don’t feel as if I was fit, D’ri Dodd,” he said 
huskily, “ but I’d like to shake hands with a hero 
like you, and — and the fellow that saved Marmy.” 

The first thing that Marmy said was, “ Tell 
Lecty they’re safe — Mary Buttercup and all the 
kittens. And, oh, Lecty walked ! She ran ! I 
saw her.” 

They thought that her brain was turned, — as if 
Marmy’s steady little brain was likely to be, — but 
they found that it was true. The doctor said that 
it often happened in cases like Lecty’s that the 
power of motion returned with sudden excitement. 
She might have relapses, she might even become 
helpless again, but it was probable that she would 
in time be fully restored to health. 

And, in fact, in the last week of the term Lecty 
answered “present” to her name in the Corner 
school. 

Hash says he “ never will quarrel with the fellow 
that saved Marmy’s life.” 

Elder Doak says “ it is a wonder to see how 
Marmy brings up her boys.” 


298 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

BETSEY : ” A BILBERRY BOY WHO MADE AN 
APRIL FOOL OF HIMSELF. 

HERE were old Aaron and Achsah Ann and 



JL young Aaron in the Green family at Bilberry 
Corner. The prefix “ old,” in Mr. Green’s case, 
had been acquired rather by a red nose and a drag- 
ging, shuffling gait, the result of paralysis, than by 
age. The red nose and the paralysis were both 
caused by drinking ; and though Mr. Green had 
seen the evil of his ways and reformed, people 
learned but slowly to respect him, and he would 
always be “ old Aaron.” 

Young Aaron was a fourteen-year-old boy, with 
luxuriant red hair, an extremely large nose, and as 
honest a pair of gray eyes as ever tried to look 
you straight in the face. They tried, and couldn’t ; 
both of them seemed to look at the extremely 
large nose, as if they were astonished at it. 

Young Aaron declared that from this peculiarity 
of his eyes came his reputation for being mischiev- 
ous. “ People always will believe a cross-eyed boy 
is up to something,” he said. 


Betsey: 


299 


It was Achsah Ann’s opinion that evil reputa- 
tions were not so easily acquired. But although 
she was only fifteen years old, Achsah Ann had 
learned the value of keeping some of her opinions 
to herself. 

Being fifteen, Achsah Ann ‘‘came between;” 
“her father leaned down upon her, and young 
Aaron leaned up,” as Mrs. Melchisedec Peters, the 
dressmaker and their neighbor, was always saying ; 
and Achsah Ann felt the responsibility. She was 
the house-mother, for her mother had died in the 
old, evil days when her father was a drunkard ; and 
with that responsibility added to the “ coming be- 
tween,” life was a pretty serious business for 
Achsah Ann Green. 

She loved fun, too, as well as young Aaron did, 
and sometimes it was hard to wear a long face 
when she wanted to laugh ; but in the practical 
jokes in which young Aaron and his friend, Jud 
Freedley, indulged, she “didn’t see any fun,” since 
some one was always annoyed or mortified by 
them. 

She certainly did not feel like laughing when 
Jud and Becky Freedley, at whose house the “sup- 
plying” minister always stayed, put their tame 
squirrel in the minister’s pocket as he was going 
to church ; and the squirrel frisked all over the 
pulpit, so that the service had to be interrupted 
until the animal was put out. And she thought it 


300 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


was vulgar and insulting, rather than funny, when 
they carried up shaving-water to the Rev. Miss 
Blodgett, who “ supplied ” one Sunday. 

When young Aaron could think of nothing more 
novel or entertaining, he would put burdocks in 
people’s beds, sew up the sleeves of coats and 
dresses, and fasten packages to the sidewalk. 
Sometimes when Achsah Ann was late for school 
and found her dress sleeves sewed up, she almost 
lost patience ; she never quite lost it, because she 
remembered what her mother had said to her just 
before she died : “You must encourage little Aaron 
to be good.” 

Although people were continually saying that he 
ought to be punished, or at least scolded, — and 
there is no doubt that he really deserved to be, 
— Achsah Ann kept on encouraging him. Their 
father left everything to her, having apparently no 
confidence in his own judgment. 

He had once kept a large store and done a thriv- 
ing business ; but that had all slipped away from 
him in his days of dissipation, and now he did odd 
jobs of carpentry — a trade he had learned in his 
youth, earning,* with the help of Achsah Ann’s 
prudent housekeeping, just enough to keep the 
wolf from the door. 

Achsah Ann was ambitious. Besides encoura- 
ging young Aaron to be good, she meant to encour- 
age him to be great. She was sure that he had 


Betsey: 


301 


brains. He often got to the head of his class, but 
some prank soon sent him to the foot again. He 
sometimes showed more quickness in arithmetic 
than the schoolmaster himself, and he had won two 
prizes for answers to mathematical puzzles in the 
County Clarion. He was to graduate from the 
grammar school at the end of the winter term, and 
then — would there be nothing better for him to 
do than help his father at odd jobs of carpentry } 

The town of Bilberry, in which they lived, had 
a new academy for boys which was the pride of 
the county ; but the charge for tuition was quite 
too high to squeeze out of old Aaron’s income 
from odd jobs. Achsah Ann, who had lain awake 
nights to calculate, had found that it could not be 
done, even if they should live on corn-meal and 
stewed beans, to say nothing of the doubt whether 
learning could thrive or greatness be encouraged 
in young Aaron on so meagre a diet. 

If young Aaron could, by any means, go to the 
academy, Achsah Ann thought that she might fol- 
low the course, with his help ; and then she might 
teach school ! Dazzling visions visited Achsah 
Ann’s pillow in the watches of the night, — hard 
indeed is the pillow under a fifteen-year-old head 
to which they do not come ! — and on one bright 
March morning they seemed to be all coming true. 

Young Aaron came running home almost out of 
breath. “ Old Simon Foss has moved away,” he 


302 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

gasped, ‘‘ and Dr. Kittredge wants a boy to take 
care of the academy — the building and the grounds 
— for his tuition ! ” 

“ O Aaron ! cried Achsah Ann. 

“ Roy Flower wants it, and Phineas Judd up on 
Pippin Hill ; but they can both afford to pay. The 
schoolmaster said he would recommend me, and 
Deacon Trueworthy said he would ! ” 

“ O Aaron, then you’ll get it ! ” cried Achsah 
Ann joyfully. 

A slight cloud came over young Aaron’s face. 

“ Deacon Trueworthy said that Dr. Kittredge was 
pretty particular, and he hoped that he hadn’t 
heard that I was up to pranks. And the school- 
master said about the same thing. It’s pretty hard 
on a fellow, just because he has cross-eyes that 
make him look like an imp of mischief ! ” Aaron 
looked the embodiment of injured innocence. 

Dr. Kittredge will have heard what a real good 
scholar you are. I think he will take you,” said 
Achsah Ann encouragingly, as she absently sweet- 
ened the beef stew and salted the apple-sauce. 
“But, Aaron, you must.be very careful — very 
careful indeed, not to — not to look cross-eyed!” 
she added, with a glance which made him color 
furiously, and mutter that it was hard on a boy 
when his own sister would listen to wrong stories 
about him. He shut the door somewhat forcibly 
when he went out. 


Betsey: 


303 


But Achsah Ann had no doubt that, if he got 
the place, he would be careful. What an oppor- 
tunity it was ! And Aaron would soon be a great 
credit to the academy. Before the beef stew was 
fairly on the table young Aaron was, in her imagi- 
nation, preaching in the Bilberry church, in a white 
choker, — to some imaginations young Aaron in a 
white choker might have been difficult, but Achsah 
Ann’s was equal to it, — with the whole county 
thronging to hear him, astonished and weeping at 
his eloquence ; and she herself, the teacher of 
Latin and mathematics at the academy, was in a 
front pew, in a very nice best bonnet, and a silk 
dress which rustled considerably. 

Dr. Kittredge wants to see me ; I am to go 
to see him to-morrow evening ! ” young Aaron 
announced the next noon ; and Achsah Ann felt 
that the good fortune was almost sure. 

Young Aaron felt so, too, and his spirits were 
high. It was the first of April ; but he had felt 
the necessity of being sober-minded, and had not 
played a single prank on any one. He had thought 
Achsah Ann unnecessarily severe in refusing even 
to make a cotton meringue or a cayenne-pepper 
doughnut, but he had submitted gracefully to such 
deprivations of his accustomed April-fool delights. 

But when, just at dusk, he ran into the yard of 
their neighbor, Mrs. Melchisedec Peters, to see 
whether ’Liph Peters had got his new bicycle, he 


304 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


succumbed to temptation. It was not very serious 
April-fooling, he thought, to run up softly behind 
Mrs. Peters’s servant, Sarah, whom he thought he 
saw standing on the back porch, and utter in her 
ear a frightful yell, known to Bilberry boys as the 
Comanche war-whoop ; not at all serious, but quite 
funny, since Sarah was slightly deaf and very 
nervous. 

The supposed Sarah was standing with her back 
toward him, and she did not turn when the blood- 
curdling shriek rang in her ears. There were boys 
in the Peters family. Sarah was probably prepared 
for such demonstrations on the first day of April. 

A new idea was suddenly suggested to young 
Aaron by the sight of the rising moon behind the 
academy hill. 

“ ’Cademy’s a-fire ! Doctor’s house ’n’ all ! ” he 
shouted. 

Before he had time to shout April fool ! ” as 
he intended, Sarah swayed and fell. 

“ She must have fainted away ! Well, I never 
meant to scare her like that ! ” said young Aaron 
to himself, in dismay. 

As he drew near, cautiously, he saw that she had 
fallen partly down the steps. The moonlight fell 
upon her dress, a light blue sateen, with little 
wheels upon it ; not like any dress that Sarah 
wore. Where had he seen that dress, and noticed 
it because the figure looked exactly like bicycle 


BETSEY:^ 305 

wheels ? He remembered now ! Mrs. Dr. Kit- 
tredge had worn it to church last summer! 

Young Aaron’s heart stood still ; this, then, was 
not Sarah, but Mrs. Dr. Kittredge, whom he had 
frightened so that she had fainted I What should 
he do He could not leave her lying there ; she 
might die. But if he were found out, farewell to 
his hopes of the academy I 

There was Mr. Peters coming in at the gate ! 
He would see the fainting woman. Over the fence 
went young Aaron, and fled homeward. 

He could not bear even to see Achsah Ann. 
He called to her that he was not feeling very well, 
which was strictly true, and went to bed without 
his supper. 

Mrs. Meacham, the blacksmith’s wife, who always 
heard the news, came in to borrow some eggs the 
next morning. 

“ Poor Mrs. Kittredge is very sick,” she said. 

She has one of those spells that she is subject 
to whenever she gets tired or nervous, or any- 
thing ; the doctor thinks it’s her heart, and she’s 
likely to die in one of ’em.” 

I suppose you can’t go to see Dr. Kittredge 
to-night, Aaron, since his wife is so sick,” said 
Achsah Ann, as soon as Mrs. Meacham had gone. 

“ Oh, I can’t go at all ! I never can go, Achsah 
Ann ! I’m to blame for Mrs. Kittredge’ s sick- 
ness ! I s’pose I’ve killed her,” groaned young 


3o6 bilberry boys and girls. 

Aaron. And Achsah Ann drew from him the 
story of his April-fooling. 

It seemed to her that it had never before been 
so difficult to encourage young Aaron. It was a 
dreadful thing that he had done, and all her hopes 
were blasted as well as his own. 

“ I don’t think she knew who it was — she didn’t 
once turn her head, so far as I could see — but 
the Peterses know my voice well enough, and I 
expect every minute somebody will be coming to 
arrest me, or something ! She is a nice woman ; 
she used to call me in to give me high-top sweet- 
ings last summer. I ’most hope they’ll hang me ! ” 
said young Aaron desperately. “ If they don’t 
take me up I guess I’ll go down and work for old 
Hotchkiss, who wants a stable-boy ; it’s all I’m 
fit for ! ” 

The day passed ; and to Achsah Ann’s surprise, 
as well as young Aaron’s, no one appeared to make 
any inquiries concerning his part in causing Mrs. 
Kittredge’s illness. Perhaps the Peterses had not 
recognized his voice. Perhaps they had not even 
heard it. They discussed the question whether he 
ought to confess, and young Aaron went off into 
the pasture to think it out alone, at last ; he had 
to whittle while he thought, and Achsah Ann 
wouldn’t let him do that in the house. 

Achsah Ann was thinking about it while she 
tried to sew, when Mrs. Peters came in, bringing 


BETSEY: 


307 


the rattan figure or dummy upon which she draped 
dresses. 

“ I wonder if I can get your father to repair my 
‘ Betsey ’ a Mttle,” she said. “ That wide rattan at 
the bottom has got bent, so she keeps toppling 
over. I set her out on the porch, yesterday, with 
Mrs. Kittredge’s blue sateen on, that she’d sent 
down for me to fix over, while Sarah was sweep- 
ing my work-room ; and if I didn’t forget her, and 
when Mr. Peters came home she’d tipped over, 
and part of that sateen dress was dragging into 
the flower-bed.” 

A light had dawned upon Achsah Ann which 
made her face radiant. 

“ Oh yes, father’ll mend it,” she said. Then 
she asked, “ Do you know how Mrs. Kittredge 
is .? ” 

“ She’s a great deal better ; those attacks don’t 
last long. I expect she’ll be able to come and try 
on her dress in a day or two,” said Mrs. Peters. 

“ I have made up my mind,” said young Aaron 
firmly, when he came in at nightfall. “ I shall tell 
just what I did, whether — whether she lives or 
dies ! ” 

Achsah Ann turned away her head ; she did not 
quite know whether it was because she wanted to 
laugh or cry. Young Aaron came tumbling down- 
stairs, with a scared face, a moment after. 

“There’s a woman in my room ! ” he said in a 


3o8 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


Stage whisper. She’s standing there, looking into 
the glass ! ” 

A woman } Why don’t you go and find out 
who she is ” 

Young Aaron hesitated. 

“ She may be crazy ; it’s very queer, you know,” 
he explained. 

“ Oh, if you’re afraid ! ” said Achsah Ann. 

That started young Aaron, of course, but this 
time he took a light. Achsah Ann stole up behind 
him. 

“ It’s only ‘ Betsey’ ! You’ve seen her before,” 
she said. Mrs. Peters left her on the porch yes- 
terday with Mrs. Kittredge’s sateen dress on, and 
she tipped over — ” 

That was enough for young Aaron ; he drew a 
long, long breath, as nearly a sob as it was manly 
for a boy to indulge in. 

“ I’ve April-fooled a lot of people. I hope none 
of ’m were so badly fooled as I was ! ” he said 
• solemnly. 

“ Mrs. Kittredge is much better, so there isn’t 
any reason why you shouldn’t go to see the doc- 
tor. And I’ve laid your best clothes out, here on 
the bed, and made you a new necktie ” — Achsah 
Ann thought she would go down-stairs without 
even finishing her sentence ; if there was anything 
that young Aaron hated, it was to have any one 
see him ‘‘make a girl of himself.” 


BETSEY, 


309 


He never plays any pranks nowadays. Perhaps 
it is because he has to sustain the honor of being 
first in his class at the academy ; or it may be be- 
cause, if he shows the least disposition to mischief, 
Achsah Ann asks him if he is acquainted with 
Betsey Peters. 


310 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS.. 


CHAPTER XX. 

HOW CHRISTMAS CAME TO TUKEY’s COVE. THE 
STORY OF A POOR LITTLE PLACE ON THE OUT- 
SKIRTS OF BILBERRY AND OF ONE GOOD TIME 
THAT CAME THERE. 

I T was queer, but nothing ever seemed to come 
to Tukey’s Cove, or, if it did, it was belated. 
You would never know there when it was the 
Fourth of July unless the wind happened to be in 
such a quarter that you could hear the Bilberry 
bells ringing, or some uncommonly fortunate boy 
had one or at most two bunches of crackers, which 
he would fire off under a tin pan to get all the 
noise possible out of them, with all the boys and 
dogs in town to assist : that was the most of a cel- 
ebration they ever had. Thanksgiving Day never 
came either — and it was New England too. The 
Tukey’s Cove turkeys quaked with dread of a far 
worse fate than being comfortably and fragrantly 
browned in their own homestead ovens, and eaten 
where their plumpness and tenderness would call 
forth home praises and lasting memories ; they were 
ignobly “ turned ” in the nearest market for flour 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY^S COVE. 311 

and tea and other necessaries. Birthdays could 
scarcely be said to come there, since no one could 
remember ever having had a good time or a pres- 
ent because it was his birthday. Even spring kept 
away long after she had come to all the Bilberrys 
— North Bilberry and the Corner and the Port ; 
the east winds blew and blew so that the leaves 
and buds dared not come out ; and even when it 
was Christmas in the almanacs, it never seemed to 
be Christmas at Tukey’s Cove. 

Of course they couldn’t expect that,” Nahum 
Nickerson said patiently. 

It was when Emeretta went out, with her shawl 
over her head, to the wood-pile where he was chop- 
ping, and said that she wished they could have a 
little bit of a Christmas for little Mary Jane’s sake. 
She went out there to say it, because they didn’t 
like to have their mother know that they thought 
much about the things they couldn’t have. Mother 
was an invalid, and lay on the old haircloth sofa 
almost all the time ; and little Mary Jane was deli- 
cate, and could never go out to play like other chil- 
dren ; and Nahum and Emeretta had to work in 
the stocking-factory, and leave them alone all day. 
And the days were long and monotonous, especially 
to little Mary Jane, who knew all the stories in her 
one picture-book by heart, and could read them Up- 
side down, and could see the pictures with her eyes 
shut, and whose one doll was constantly coming 


312 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


unsewed and unpinned, and turning again into the 
old shawl from which it was evolved, which was 
very perplexing and distressing to maternal feel- 
ings, and had now, moreover, lost one of its black- 
button eyes into a crack in the floor, from whence 
it could not be recovered. To have life look dark 
to little Mary Jane was, to all the others, the hard- 
est thing they had to bear. 

Nahum thought that perhaps Emeretta meant 
that he ought to take the four dollars and fifty-nine 
cents that he had saved up, and make a Christmas 
for little Mary Jane ; but how could he do that 
when at any time the drummer who came from 
Boston to buy goods at the stocking-factory might 
say he had found for him the situation he had 
promised to seek } for if he had not money enough 
to pay his fare he could not go. His mother had 
given her consent to his going to Boston — any- 
where, indeed — if he would not wish to go to sea. 
Nahum meant to be somebody in the world, if he 
couldn’t be a sailor. Long, long thoughts and 
plannings that no one would have imagined went 
on inside that round, tow-thatched head of his. 

His mother was to grow strong and happy, and 
wear a silk dress ; Emeretta was to have a new hair 
ribbon each day (it must be acknowledged that 
Emeretta would have liked that), and go to a high- 
school, and little Mary Jane — what was not little 
Mary Jane to have ? — a strong back and the reddest 


C//R/STMAS AT TUKEY^S COVE. 313 

of cheeks, and whole toyshops and menageries at 
her command. There were to be carpets on the 
floors, and pictures on the walls, and always plum- 
cake for supper. He was somewhat undecided 
whether he should be the editor of a great news- 
paper which should take the right side on every 
question and be honored and approved of by every 
one, or a great merchant who never made a bad 
bargain, or the president of a bank in which every 
one trusted. There had been times when he had 
seriously contemplated shooting buffaloes, or being 
President, or inventing a new kind of balloon ; but 
he said to himself that he had grown wise and 
practical since then. But however his views as to 
his own career changed, in one determination he 
never wavered — he meant to have a good gun. 
Perhaps much of Nahum’s planning was foolish and 
visionary, and yet what may not a boy do with a 
strong arm and a stout heart and that armor of 
courage that wards off all the blows of evil for- 
tune } At all events, if you had prophesied to 
Nahum that he would never succeed, he wouldn’t 
have believed you — no, indeed ! 

Emeretta was going into the house, looking dis- 
appointed, in spite of the fact that she had not really 
expected that Nahum would spend his four dollars 
and fifty-nine cents, and would scarcely have wished 
him to ; for Nahum’s precious plans were occasion- 
ally divulged to her, and she had implicit faith in 


314 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

them ; and Nahum was wondering whether he had 
not better call her back, and tell her that he would 
spend the fifty-nine cents for something to put into 
little Mary Jane’s stocking, when Nim Baker, one 
of their neighbors, who had been over to Bilberry 
Corner, stopped at the door. 

“ Here’s a box for Emeretta that I fetched over 
from the express office,” called Nim. “Guess she’s 
got a Christmas present ! ” 

“ For me?" cried Emeretta, running out to the 
wagon. “ It must be a mistake ! Who would send 
me a box } ” 

“ Well, as long as there isn’t any other Emeretta 
Ellen Nickerson in these parts, I calc’late you’ll 
have to take it. Mebbe Santa Claus has sent by 
express, bein’ he never seems to have time to get 
round here with his reindeer,” said Nim facetiously. 

“Oh, oh, Emeretta! did Santa Claus send it ” 
cried little Mary Jane, dancing around the box in 
wide-eyed excitement and delight. 

Emeretta stood, with clasped hands, at a respect- 
ful distance, and looked it all over, although there 
was nothing to be seen but the four wooden sides, 
and the address, in very large black letters, “ Miss 
Emeretta Ellen Nickerson, Tukey’s Cove, Bilberry.” 
But Nahum, who was a boy of action, was already 
prying off the top with the hatchet. 

“ Here’s a letter ; that will tell you all about it,” 
he said. 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY'S COVE. 315 

Emeretta turned the letter over and over m her 
hands, looking at it with a kind of awe, and afraid 
to open it. 

But little Mary Jane had already thrust her 
small hand into the box, and found a package, 
from which she had torn the wrappings and dis- 
closed a most beautiful waxen doll. She had 
truly” hair as yellow as gold, and a complexion 
like strawberries and cream ; she had ear-rings in 
her ears, and a very stylish dress on, not to men- 
tion the whole Saratoga trunk full of clothes that 
was in the package with her ; and, greatest wonder 
and delight of all, when little Mary Jane pressed 
her to her heart in a transport of joy the waxen 
lips opened, and the doll said, “ Mama ! ” 

Little Mary Jane turned pale, and I am not sure 
that Emeretta and Nahum didn’t ; for not only had 
no talking doll ever opened its lips in Tukey’s Cove 
or in any other part of Bilberry before, but they 
had never even heard that such a marvel existed. 
Little Mary Jane, who believed in fairies, and so 
found nothing very startling, except for the mo- 
ment, was the first to recover herself. 

“ Of course Santa Claus sent it to me, or else 
it wouldn’t have called me mama,” she declared. 

Being a boy, Nahum immediately upset this 
theory by discovering the spring which governed 
the doll’s powers of speech, and making her say 
Papa ” or Mama ” at his pleasure. But this dis- 


3i6 bilberry boys and girls. 

covery seemed to increase rather than diminish 
little Mary Jane’s satisfaction, especially after she 
found that she could do it herself. 

Meanwhile Emeretta was reading the letter. 

“ Oh, mother ! oh, Nahum ! it’s from that lovely 
Miss Enderton who was boarding at Bilberry Cor- 
ner last summer, and came over to visit the fac- 
tory. Don’t you remember that I told you Mr. 
Barker let me show her round } And she asked 
me questions, and made me talk so much, that be- 
fore I knew it I had told her all about us, little 
Mary Jane and all, and about Luella Tukey, who 
was working next to me, and her little lame sister 
Nancy. She seemed interested in everybody who 
had trouble. I heard people say that she was very 
rich and very odd. She didn’t say much herself ; 
but she made me talk, and she wrote my name 
down. I wondered why, but I didn’t suppose she 
would ever think of me again.” 

Nahum had drawn the box to his mother’s sofa ; 
and she, with a brighter look than she had worn 
for many a long day, was taking out the gifts — a 
soft warm shawl and a pretty hat ; a pair of blank- 
ets so soft and thick that it warmed one just to 
look at them ; a pair of boy’s rubber boots, into 
which Nahum thrust his feet, and found, with great 
satisfaction, that they were just a fit ; some books 
and games ; and some delicate fruits and jellies ; 
and a great box of candy. 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY'S COVE. 317 

Is that all ? ” said Emeretta, peering into the 
box and turning everything over and over. 

** A//? Surely it is enough ! My dear, you are 
not ungrateful ? ” said her mother reproachfully. 

Emeretta looked from her letter, which she had 
read over and over, to little Mary Jane, who sat in 
her small chair, with the doll hugged tightly in 
her arms, talking and singing to it, and her face 
was troubled. 

I suppose it’s foolish, but it does seem as if 
little Mary Jane’s doll were the best of all,” said 
her mother, with tears of joy running down her 
face. 

Emeretta crushed her letter all into a little ball, 
and thrust it into the depths of her pocket. 

‘‘ See ! she can do more than talk — she can 
walk ! ” cried Nahum, who had discovered another 
mechanical arrangement in the doll. He set her 
upon her feet, and with a little swish of her pink 
silk train she walked gracefully off half-way across 
the room, while little Mary Jane was almost hys- 
terical with delight. 

“ It’s better than medicine to the child,” said 
her mother. 

Emeretta took the letter from her pocket, and 
tossed it into the very heart of the fire ; she was 
afraid that her mother or Nahum might wish to 
read it. As it blazed up, she felt as if the words, 
which kept repeating themselves in her ears, must 


3i8 bilberry boys and girls. 

show themselves in the flames : The blue-eyed 
doll is for Luella Tukey’s little lame sister.” 

If she had only read the letter before little Mary 
Jane had found the doll and thought it hers ! How 
could she take it away from her now She hoped 
she was not ungrateful for all those useful presents, 
but if there only had been a doll for little Mary 
Jane! She remembered that Miss Enderton had 
led her on to tell her that the Tukeys were not so 
poor as they ; that was the reason why there were 
warm clothes for them, and the beautiful doll ; was 
for Nancy Tukey. Poor little Mary Jane! She 
might have liked the games, although they were 
somewhat too old for her, if she had not seen the 
doll. They discussed the naming of the doll ; and 
their mother favored Emily, because Emily Ender- 
ton was the name signed to the letter, and little 
Mary Jane wanted to name her Goldilocks, after the 
Princess in her book. 

How merry they were — all but Emeretta. Their 
mother sat up on the sofa, and made Emeretta try 
on the pretty hat ; Nahum, still wearing the rub- 
ber boots, lay flat on the floor, in boy fashion, and 
tried each of the games, with the gay cards spread 
around him; and little Mary Jane had exchanged 
the doll’s pink silk trained dress for a Paris night- 
gown all laces and ribbons, and was singing her to 
sleep, which was comfortable for her dollship, who 
must have been hoarse and stiff after so prolonged 
a display of her accomplishments. 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY'S COVE. 319 

A knock at the door made Emeretta start. Na- 
hum, who had looked out of the window, said it 
was only Luella Tukey. Emeretta called to him, 
as he was going to the door, not to invite Luella 
into the sitting-room ; it might make her feel badly 
to see all their beautiful presents, when she never 
had any. But of course a boy wouldn’t think of 
that, and Nahum didn’t hear ; and in came Luella, 
and went into raptures over all the things. She 
tried on the pretty hat and shawl, and was not in 
the least envious, for she was a very good girl ; 
and Emily Goldilocks was ruthlessly aroused, and 
made to talk and walk until Nahum said she would 
certainly get out of order. Luella wasn’t envious ; 
but she did say, as she was going away, Em- 
eretta, what ivouldrit I give if little Nancy only 
had a doll like that ! I think it would almost 
make her walk.” 

Emeretta was in such haste to get rid of her 
that she almost shut the door in her face ; and then 
she- was cross to Nahum, and when she tried to 
get supper ready she poured the hot water into the 
tea-canister, and put the tea into the dried-apple 
sauce. And her heart was as heavy as lead, and 
she almost wished that Christmas had never come 
to Tukey ’s Cove. 

‘‘If Luella hadn’t come, perhaps I might have 
carried the doll over to Nancy,” she said to herself. 
“ Now of course I never can.” 


320 Bilberry boYs and Girls. 

Her sleep that night was troubled ; and she had 
a very bad dream, in which Emily Goldilocks, 
changed into a giantess, was walking and walking 
over her, and trying to strangle her with her long 
hair, because she had shut little Nancy Tukey up 
in the Christmas-box which Miss Enderton had sent. 
She awoke from this dream with a great start. 

“ I can’t bear it ; I am a thief,” she said to her- 
self. I will try to take the doll away from Mary 
Jane in her sleep, and perhaps I can console her 
in some way in the morning.” 

But little Mary Jane clung to the doll, even in 
her sleep, with all her small strength, and frowned 
and moaned when Emeretta tried to loosen her 
grasp. Moreover, little Mary Jane, who had a bad 
habit of sucking her thumb, had taken into her 
mouth to-night, instead of her own thumb, the 
waxen hand of Emily Goldilocks, and in that warm 
retreat, lo and behold ! the fingers of the hand had 
melted and run together, and Emily Goldilocks’s 
once beautiful hand was but a lump of wax ! 

“ Little Mary Jane will like her just as well ; 
but of course I couldn’t carry her to Nancy now,” 
said Emeretta. “ Oh ! what shall I do 

Early the next morning — so early that the 
Christmas stars were still twinkling — she was 
down in the cow-shed, where Nahum was milking 
Brown Betty, telling him all about it, and asking 
him what she should do. 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY'S COVE. 


321 


Nahum was very good to her; Emeretta will 
never forget how good he was. He did not even 
say, as she had expected he would, “ I wouldn’t 
have believed it of you,” or “You see it is always 
better to do right, no matter how hard it is or who 
suffers.” He only said, “There’s my four dollars 
and fifty-nine cents ; perhaps we can buy a doll 
just like it. I’ll walk over to Bilberry Corner this 
morning and see Mr. Ferris, who keeps the variety 
store. He won’t have a doll like that, but perhaps 
he will send to Boston for it.” 

It cut Emeretta to the heart that Nahum should 
be obliged to sacrifice his precious savings, upon 
which so much depended ; but it was a relief to 
think that Nancy would soon have her doll. But 
alas ! Nahum came back from the Corner with a 
very downcast face. 

“What do you think a doll like that costs — a 
walking and talking doll ” he said to Emeretta, 
who ran out to meet him. “ Mr. Ferris says thirty 
or forty dollars at the least ! ” 

“ Thirty or forty dollars for a doll ! O Nahum ! 
what shall we do .? ” 

“ I’ve thought it all over,” said Nahum. “ If the 
doll’s hand were not spoiled I suppose we should 
have to take it away from Mary Jane, although I 
am afraid it would make her sick. As it is, we 
must buy one for Nancy Tukey. We might sell 
Brown Betty ; old Mr. Meserve would buy her ; 


322 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

but I don’t know how mother and little Mary Jane 
could get along without the milk.” 

“ Oh, they couldn’t ! they couldn’t ! We must 
not sell Brown Betty ! ” cried Emeretta. 

“ There’s one other way. Mr. Barker at the 
factory will give me a dollar more a week if I 
will bind myself to stay a year, and I think he 
would advance me enough money to pay for the 
doll.” 

“ And then you’d have to stay, even if you got 
a chance to go to Boston. What made you put 
your hand into your pocket then, Nahum } Is that 
a letter } O Nahum, have you got a chance .? ” 

“ I didn’t mean to tell you, but I don’t know 
that it will make you feel any worse. It’s queer 
how things happen ! The postmaster called me, 
when I was passing this morning, and gave me this 
letter. That drummer is an awful good fellow ! 
I suppose he thought it would be all the better to 
me coming Christmas. It’s a pretty good place, I 
think ; it’s a large firm. Llewellyn Pringle, of Bil- 
berry, works for a branch house of the same firm, 
at Brockville. They want a boy they can trust 
(Nahum said this a little proudly), and there’s a 
chance to work up. But don’t feel so badly, Em- 
eretta ; maybe there’ll be another chance some 
time.” 

“ There won’t. And you can never earn any- 
thing here, and you’ll go off to sea and break 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY'S COVE. 323 

mother’s heart,” cried Emeretta, in despair. Oh ! 
isn’t there some other way to get the money } ” 

‘‘ They wouldn’t advance it to me in a new place ; 
I couldn’t ask them, you know,” said Nahum, who 
had turned over possibilities in his mind all the 
way from Bilberry. 

‘‘Then we’ll carry the doll to Nancy Tukey, if 
the hand is spoiled ! ” said Emeretta desperately. 

“ Even if the hand were not spoiled I couldn’t 
bear to take it away from little Mary Jane now. 
She’s so sensitive. I’m afraid it would kill her. 
And mother keeps saying she thinks it may cure 
her, she’s so happy with it. You needn’t feel so 
badly, Em ; it was awful hard,” added Nahum gen- 
erously. “I might have done just the same my- 
self. I am going to see Mr. Barker this afternoon ; 
he’ll have time to talk to me to-day. And if he 
won’t advance the money, I shall have to tell Mr. 
Meserve that he can have Brown Betty.” 

“ I will go with you as far as Luella Tukey’s ; I 
am going to tell her all about it,” said Emeretta 
firmly. “It will be something of a Christmas to 
them to know that Nancy is going to have a doll, 
and I sha’n’t feel quite so much like a thief.” 

“Better wait till we get the doll,” counselled 
Nahum sagely. “ She might insist upon taking 
that one, with its spoiled hand, and then what 
would Mary Jane do? Besides, it’s no good to 
confess,” added Nahum, being a boy. If you’ve 


324 


BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 


wronged a fellow, or a girl, or anybody, it’s the 
way to make up for it just as quick as you can ; 
then he knows how you feel, without your making 
a great fuss.” 

But this advice, which I think myself was not to 
be despised, did not impress Emeretta favorably. 
She felt that she must relieve her overburdened 
feelings, and also that Luella ought not to be left 
to think that they were quite forgotten by Santa 
Claus — a condition of which she knew the unhap- 
piness. So they set out together, with perhaps 
about as heavily burdened hearts, for young ones, 
as the Christmas skies looked down upon ; for 
Nahum could not reconcile himself to the loss of 
his long-hoped-for opportunity, and Emeretta was 
doubly miserable in being the cause of his trouble. 
Luella Tukey came running out of her house when 
she saw them coming. Nahum, who had already 
a well-developed masculine objection to ‘‘scenes,” 
was preparing to climb over the fence and pretend 
that he was in such a hurry that he was obliged to 
go “across lots” ; but Luella called to him. Her 
face was radiant, and she was almost breathless with 
eagerness. 

“ O Nahum, you must come and see it too ! — 
and a shawl and a hat for me — just like yours, 
only its eyes are bluer; they’re just as blue as — 
as china ! And she forgot to put it into your box, 
as she meant to, and she marked ‘ Immediate ’ on 


CHRISTMAS AT TUKEY'S COVE. 325 

the bundle, so they sent it right over from the ex- 
press office, and it’s just come, and you ought to 
see Nancy ; we’re afraid she’ll hug the talk and the 
walk right out of it ! And I don’t know as Miss 
Enderton meant to send me anything, for she only 
said she forgot to put the doll into your box, so I 
suppose, because she forgot, she thought she would. 
So I’m glad she did forget. Why, Emeretta Nick- 
erson, what are you crying for } The idea of cry- 
ing over such beautiful things ! What is the matter 
with her, Nahum ? ” 

But Nahum had turned about, and was hurrying 
toward home. His voice threatened to fail him, 
and he thought of explaining to Luella that he had 
a very bad cold. He decided that it was allowable 
for a boy to run away when there was danger of 
his making a girl of himself if he stayed. He called 
back that he was going to pack his clothes, and 
write to that drummer that he was coming at 
once. 

“ If Luella Tukey knew that he had got a place 
to work in Boston, she couldn’t expect him to be 
interested in dolls and things,” he said to himself. 

Did Emeretta confess to Luella ? I know, but I 
never shall tell. Whether she did or not, they 
were just as good friends as ever, or even better ; 
and little Mary Jane and Nancy had a tea-party, at 
which both the dolls ''received,” and there was a 
great deal of discussion as to whether Mary Jane’s 


326 BILBERRY BOYS AND GIRLS. 

doll’s eyes looked blue at all, Nancy’s doll’s were 
so much bluer. And Luella’s brother Leander 
milks Brown Betty now and chops the driftwood, 
for Nahum is in Boston. He is not earning very 
much money at present, the room he is living in 
does not have much carpet to boast of, and he 
does not have plum-cake for supper any oftener 
than he did at home ; but he is showing his em- 
ployers that they can trust him, and bidding fair 
to make his dreams come true. He is the sort of 
boy that is not content to stop at dreaming. So I 
shouldn’t wonder if all kinds of good times yet 
found their way to Tukey’s Cove, and that Nahum 
will turn out to be quite as bright, and ‘^proper,” 
and successful as we hope all the other boys and 
girls of Bilberry will be when they become men 


women. 


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